Madness (Loki x OFC)
by oblivion-is-grace
Summary: Loki Laufeyson is a lost cause. The common people of Asgard regarded him as a monster before his fall from the Bifrost, and the people of Midgard consider him a monster after he attempted to lay waste to New York City. Now that he's back in Asgard, there's only one person who is willing to offer him retribution: Eva, the orphan. Eva, the siren. Eva, the one the Gods forgot.
1. The Warrior

I stood with a glass filled to the brim of Hjalmar's favorite Asgardian ale. I never enjoyed the taste, but it was strong enough to get a man three times my size drunk, so I was going to need it. This was what we did after a battle. We had grand feasts and told stories of the battle we fought. Most of us would falsify how many we killed or exaggerate how graceful we were on the battlefield. Hjalmar was no different. He had stood taller than the God of Thunder himself, yet he was no God at all. Hjalmar was a simple warrior, but he was one of the best. The battle on Vanaheim claimed a few Asgardian lives, but none had been greater a friend than Hjalmar was to me. The drinks I consumed during the feast would be in honor of him.

As soon as I rose from my seat, Thor's eyes, blue as Midgard's oceans, landed on me. As he became silent, the entire room died down. Normally, I didn't have much to say, but the prince-with hair as gold as the King's throne-always knew when I had something on my mind. When everyone's eyes followed Thor's to land on me, I began to speak, "tonight, we sit at a table with places set for absent friends. Each battle that claims a life of one of our own also claims a piece of ourselves. Hjalmar was my closest friend, and his heroics on Vanaheim will be remembered by those who loved him...as I did," I smiled in fond remembrance as my eyes lowered to my drink. The energy in the room was buzzing, even in the silence. I could feel the life surrounding me, and it gave me the strength I needed to gaze around at the faces in the room. I raised my glass, ale spilling out and trickling down the side, "so, brothers, I urge you to drink heartily for the fallen, and take pity on those they will conquer in Valhalla!" I exclaimed.

Cheers erupted from the half-drunken men. They shot up from their seats with glasses raised high and cheered before drowning their own sorrows in drink and celebration for the lives of our friends. Before I could drink, my eyes met those of my prince and childhood friend. Thor's eyes were filled with understanding because he was one of the only people to truly understand just how much Hjalmar meant to me. Even in my darkest moments, when I felt completely isolated, I still had Hjalmar. Now, that security was gone. He raised his glass to me, and I did the same to him It was a mutual understanding. Aaldir-the man who raised me as his own-took in Hjalmar when he was just an orphan boy, roaming the streets of Asgard. He raised us both, and I saw Hjalmar as a brother and best friend. Hjalmar and Thor trained together during their childhood and fought at each other's side in battle. My heart broke for Thor just as much as it broke for my own loss and sorrow, Hjalmar had been with me through my darkest nights, and now...he was gone. I didn't know how I could face the only father I ever knew when I felt so much shame over the loss of the closest thing to a son he ever had. And Thor. The sorrow in those blue eyes cut me like a knife. I wanted to sob into my drink.

But I didn't.

Instead, I tipped my head back and chugged the ale that left Hjalmar on the floor some nights. There were times when the massive drunken man would be held steady on my shoulder as I led him back to the house after a night of feasting and drinking. Tonight, I would have no one to carry home. Just the thought of it brought tears to my eyes, and I finished my glass of ale, tossing the empty cup to the side. I walked away from the noise and out into the fresh air. As I stared out into the vast universe, I wondered if he could see me. I wondered if he could understand that I hated him for leaving me to live the rest of my life without him. I wondered if he could understand that I still loved him with every fiber of my being because he was the only family I ever had. The thoughts clouded my mind so heavily that I almost didn't hear the soft footsteps behind me. However, I was always aware of him. Thor. There had only been two other people I was more in tune with, and I couldn't even bring myself to say their names anymore.

As I leaned against the railing of the balcony, Thor stepped beside me and copied my stance. I felt his gaze on the side of my face, almost like he was trying to read me like a book. I shook my head, strands of hair falling from behind my ears. My heart felt like it was being torn in two, "none of this feels right. Valhalla wasn't ready for Hjalmar, and _I'm_ not ready to let him go," I confessed, tears filling my eyes once again, "I just...can't close my eyes without seeing it," I added, turning to face the golden-haired God of Thunder.

Thor's hands cupped my cheeks, and I leaned into his warm touch. The only other man to make me feel so safe was..._him_, and that comfort died when he used his power to torment and murder the Midgardians without a hint of guilt. I fought back the tears, never wanting my prince to see me as just another hopeless maiden. Asgardian women were meant to be strong. We gave life to the God's, so were we not stronger than them? I could not show my weakness to Thor, not now, not when he lost so much, "you should not worry yourself with things outside the realm of your control, my lady," he spoke, stroking my cheek with his calloused thumbs, "Valhalla received a great and glorious hero when Hjalmar walked through those doors. He will continue to fight and drink and eat as he always did in life, and there will come a day when we're all together again. I understand he was one of your closest friends, but he died a valiant death, and you will see him again in Valhalla someday," he reassured me.

I pulled away from his grasp and stared down at the streets below where I was beaten and abused for defending _my_ prince. Not Thor. _Him_. I shook my head, my bottom lip quivering and, in my eyes, resurfaced unshed tears for a man that died long ago, "my sorrow is not only for Hjalmar. I think of-" my breath hitched in my throat, and I swallowed back the sob that threatened to shake my body. I swallowed and grimaced, fighting back the need to shed tears on behalf of a man who caused so much destruction but tried to protect me from it at the same time, "I think of how your brother was dragged through the streets of Asgard in chains...like he was an _animal_."

"I do not enjoy seeing this, either, but I've tried to think of it like a hunter coming back from a successful hunt. He will speak of it for weeks after. While my father may be taking this too far, he does it out of pride for our accomplishment. You, me, and the heroes of Midgard brought my brother to justice, and this is my father's way of rejoicing" he tried to explain. Thor always did his best to soothe me. Seeing that his words did nothing of the sort, he continued, "his treatment will not upset you so much if you can remember what he did on Midgard."

"How could I forget it?" I snapped, suddenly angry that a man who knew me so well assumed that it would be possible for me to forget something so tragic and so deeply disturbing. I could remember seeing _him_ on Midgard. I could remember the pain and fear in his eyes when they met mine. He still wore green, and a part of me resented him for it. The man I knew was still alive beneath the hatred and anger he felt. What could one do when the person that holds the largest piece of their heart poses the biggest threat to all they hold dear? Life. _He_ destroyed so much of that while on Midgard, and I could not forget it. It would be a my most haunting memory for the rest of my days. My eyes lowered as I realized how wrong it was for me to be upset with Thor when I did not feel any true anger toward him, "it all seems like...like a nightmare that I should be waking up from. None of this seems real anymore," I explained.

He reached down between the two of us and grabbed my hand in his much larger one. His long fingers intertwined with mine, and, as I looked up at him with concern for the sudden motion that would undoubtedly draw attention to the two of us, he smiled down at me, "come with me" he urged, giving my hand a gentle tug in his direction. We began walking, the sleeves of my dress and his black robe that draped over his broad shoulders hid our hands from the prying eyes of the warriors who were still feasting. There had already been whispers of who his queen would be when he assumed the throne, and the moment he was seen with any acceptable woman, it would be scrutinized. I did not wish for my relationship with one of my greatest friends to be jeopardized over something so trivial.

As we walked out of the sight of the crowds, he pulled me closer to him. Soon, I found my arm looped through his, and we walked together toward the forest. I glanced up at him, taking in the view of the man before me. I couldn't deny his beauty. Each day I knew him, he grew more and more beautiful, and there was a small piece of me that wondered what it would be like to be the object of his deepest affection. Still, I could only entertain the idea because an even larger part of me would be..._his_. I shook the thought from my mind as we made our way to a small clearing in the forest. At the very middle of the field of green was where I would sit most days, my back leaned against the most beautiful and unique tree of them all. We all knew it as "Life's Tree." The trunk was as brown as the earth with flowers lining the branches overhead. I glanced up at Thor, "why did you take me here?" I asked.

He smiled down at me as he sat against the tree as he had so many times before. I would bring him to that very spot so many times in our childhood, and I would sit with him. As we grew older, he would find his moments of peace and solitude in the forest with me, but nothing compared to the moments I shared with _him_ underneath that tree. They were moments of pure peace and beauty. It was when our lives were much simpler, when it was no worry how long we were wrapped up in each other. He was no prince in the eyes of Odin, but he was _my_ prince, "these woods are your home" Thor answered, breaking me from my train of thought, "in over a thousand years, do you truly believe I haven't noticed you singing to the trees? Odin claims time and time again that this forest is healthier now than ever before, that your presence has helped it thrive," he stated.

"The king..._your father_ has always been more poetic than most," I exclaimed, smiling down at him before I lowered myself onto the ground next to him.

He chuckled to himself as his gaze flickered up to the flowers on the tree. The red and white petals caught every hint of starlight, and it spilled down onto the two of us, specks of light illuminating his face to me, "I asked my father the story of this tree once, especially why the leaves do not fall like the rest and why it is unlike the other trees in this forest. He told me that a long time ago, this used to be a simple meadow. No trees and no life could be found here. Then, one day, Death itself planted this tree beneath the biggest star in the night sky, and her tears watered the sapling. No one touched the sapling from that moment on, but it still grew and brought up the most beautiful forest in all the Nine Realms with it. The red flowers symbolized the violence and bloodshed of death, and the white represented the purity and innocence of all life at the beginning. The reason why it never withers is because these two forces have danced together since the beginning of the universe, and it will continue long after you and I cease to exist," he murmured, recalling the story with fond memories of this place. He stared down at his hands that were folded across his lap, "your problem is not that my brother was taken through the streets as much as it is you cannot visit him."

I shook my head in disagreement even though my heart knew his words to be true. For so many years, I tried to pretend that I didn't care about _him_. When he betrayed Asgard and tried to kill Thor on Midgard, I tried to forget the man he was before. When he fell from the bifrost, I tried to forget the joy he brought to my life. When I saw him on Midgard, I lied to myself-told myself that I didn't want to save him. I still did. I wanted to do it for myself and for _him_..._and _for _her_. My sorrow grew, "there is no part of me that wishes to see your brother. I care not of him but of the safety of Asgard," I lied.

Thor saw right through me and challenged me, "then why does Odin's treatment of him trouble you?" he asked, his hand grasping mine as he often did when he could feel my sadness. Too many people believed Thor to be a lumbering oaf, but he was so intelligent and so intuitive. He could read me like an open book most of the time. He was so compassionate and pure of heart. His mere existence made me want to cry tears of joy as he was one of the most selfless and heroic men I knew. In every moment I felt unsure of myself, his support was something as small as squeezing my hand, or it could be as extravagant as lifting me up off the ground with shouts of celebration. He was not only a hero to the Midgardians. He was mine, too.

His gentle squeeze of my hand was all it took for me to come up with the right words to articulate what I truly felt, "locking away someone like..._him_ is dangerous, especially when he is given no time to visit with others. Think of how much hate and filth is in those dungeons. A man like your brother is sitting in that cesspool, soaking it all in. He's listening and calculating. That anger within him is festering, especially when he has no one to put out that raging fire in his heart. He's becoming more and more dangerous the longer he sits down there. I only fear for the safety of my home and the safety of my people," I explained.

"The people of the Nine Realms are _safe _because of his sentencing. He hasn't tried to break out of his cell thus far, but if he does, we'll be ready for it. And may the gods take pity on any being who should go up against the likes of you," he assured me with a soft chuckle to lighten the mood. Upon seeing that I couldn't even muster a smile, he frowned,"you have a heart too kind for this world and all others, Lady Eva. You are a beacon of light that people look to, and you have lightened the darkness in my own life time and time again. I know that you seek to find good within my brother, but after all he has done, after all the destruction he has left in his wake, he deserves none of that compassion. Deep down, I think you know it's true. That's why you have not spoken his name since the battle of New York. I love my brother, but I cannot forgive him for what he has done to both the population of Midgard as well as what he has done to you. He has caused you so much distress and sorrow, so much pain and misery. I cannot trust him with the people of Asgard, and I _certainly_ cannot trust him with you, my lady"

"Do you know what it's like to feel lonely, my prince? Do you know how it feels to walk through the forest with the trees being your only friends? Do you understand how it feels to sit next to the water and listen to it splashing against the rocks because that's the only way to drown out the voices of those who have hurt you? Do you understand what it's like to wish for a table full of friends and family who love you? I do. Your brother does, too," I explained, trying to make Thor see that before he tried to take over the throne, his brother was gentle. He enjoyed causing mischief, but he needed some way to release his sorrow and grief. I continued, "you think that he pushes people away to hurt them, but he does it because _he's _afraid of hurting them. He has been told all his life-since we were children-that he is an abomination, that he's no good, that he doesn't belong here. What do you think he sees when he looks in the mirror? He knows what he is, and he knows he's capable of hurting others, so he pushes them away before that can happen. He has tried to protect us just like you've always tried to protect me. The man we knew before is still alive inside that man we saw on Midgard. I know it, and I'm going to bring him back," I added.

"You have enough hope for the both of us, my lady. You've always had a heart big enough for every living thing in the Nine Realms combined. I just wish to see you at peace. You have worried for him long enough," he stated, recalling the many times in the past when I would fret over the raven-haired God and how the Asgardian people treated him. I worried about him more than I ever did myself. When we were on the battlefield together, I would put myself in harms way for him, but he did the same for me time and time again, so I owed him, "will you be okay with just your own company tonight, Lady Eva?" he asked

I saw the reflection of my green eyes in his blue ones, and it made my heart ache even more than before as I thought of the countless moments the same thing happened between myself and _him_. _His_ eyes were the purest shade of blue, brilliant and deep. I nodded my head, suppressing some of my most beautiful memories to keep myself from feeling the pain of his absence, "the trees will watch over me through the night. Like you said before, this forest is my home," I answered.

"Sing a song for him tonight-for both of them, as I know you miss _her_ just as much," Thor suggested, knowing that I needed some way to process. I couldn't go home to face Aaldir, and I would isolate myself for the time being. Singing to the trees had always been something that I used to soothe myself, and it helped lift the sorrows of death from my heart.

My fingers brushed against his hand. The only thing I desperately wanted in that moment was to feel the touch of another, and if I had it my way, I would've been speaking with the man who was the polar opposite of the God of Thunder. If I had it my way, I would be sitting beneath that same tree, braiding his black hair away from his face. Instead, for that moment, I had to settle for the possibility that I would never see him again. I glanced up at Thor, "will you be listening?" I asked in reference to his suggestion.

He smiled and stood up from the forest floor. I followed him, my deep green gown straightening itself as I rose. His eyes softened as he gazed down at me, "I'm _always _listening," he assured me, leaning down and brushing his lips against my cheek. I felt like crying. I loved Thor with every inch of my heart. He was one of my greatest friends, and I wouldn't trade him for the world. However, I needed _him_. I needed _him _in that very moment. After all I had lost that day, I needed to know that I wasn't losing him, too.

When Thor pulled away and leaned his forehead against mine, I felt the familiar trembling in my knees that I did before he first kissed me in our younger years. It was not the first time I had been kissed, and it was not the last, but it was a moment of clarity the two of us shared with each other. As he smiled at me, I couldn't help but allow my sorrow to melt away just in that moment. I was brought back to a simpler time, a time when I didn't know as much of the cruelty in the Nine Realms as I did now. I was oblivious to so much of the pain that humanity experienced. I didn't know true sorrow until I gave my whole life away. Now, I was clouded by the pain and suffering so many living things experienced in their lives, and it tore me apart. However, as I stood there with Thor under the light of the stars, I was brought back to the simple moments, like when _he _told me that he could see all Nine Realms in my eyes or when _he_ traced the constellations on my skin in the silence of the forest. Or when _she_ first smiled at me.

After Thor's silent retreat back to the castle left me in the forest alone, I gazed up at the white and red blossoms of the tree before resting my palms against the trunk. The energy from the tree flowed through me, and I passed my own energy into the tree. I closed my eyes and felt the essence of the whole world at the tips of my fingers. I felt her sorrow as if it were my own, just as I felt her joy as if it were mine. To me, the world was alive, and there had never been a day when I took her gifts for granted. She was mystical and wonderful. She sustained each of us, giving of herself every single day for thousands and thousands of years. I mourned with her when she grieved for those lost in battle, for she provided for them until their last day, and she didn't like saying goodbye. Just as I mourned with her, she did the same with me, too. It was as if we were one and the same. I knew that a part of her felt sorrow and grief for the same strange reason I was. It was because of _him_.

As I thought of the other beautiful moments of simplicity in my life, the moments of purity, _he_ was in so many of them. Even though he had been stripped of his innocence so long ago, there was something that held him together. Even though he experienced so much prejudice and cruelty in his early years, he maintained his positivity through our childhood and early adulthood. My prince, my prankster, my _friend_. Malevolence surrounded him the last time we saw each other in New York. I saw a man who killed my best friend and took his name and face. He wouldn't even look at me during his sentencing, but I couldn't help but wish he had. My peaceful moment with Thor was meant to be with _him_. Every single moment of my life was meant to be spent with _him_. I did not hate him for the hurtful things he said to me on Midgard. I did not hate him for pushing me away time and time again. I hated him for taking away the one thing that made my fight worth it. I hated him for making me care so deeply for him, that the rest of the Nine Realms disappeared when he was with me. I missed him with my whole heart, and I made up my mind in that moment. I would save him even if he didn't want me to.

* * *

***Loki's POV***

As I sat in the dungeon, books strewn across the floor, I dared to close my eyes. Every time I did, I could see her green ones staring back at me. I could still see the fear and anguish that struck her when she saw me on Midgard, and I wished for her to simply kill me. The pain became more and more unbearable the more I closed my eyes. I could not sleep without dreaming of her, without contemplating how _my _actions ruined her. My mind was no longer my home, and I wished for her to just put me out of my misery. Every time the dungeons fell silent at night, I could still hear her whisper my name under her breath. I was brought back to Midgard, and I could still _feel_ the pain my actions caused her.

The dungeons had not fallen silent just yet, but I hoped that the guards would come down soon to quiet the other prisoners. I clenched my jaw, a piece of me wishing for the noise. I could not bear to hear her disembodied voice anymore, the sound of her cries still echoing in my mind. I had not seen her shed the tears, but I heard them on our way back from Midgard. The guards had pushed me along, and she stayed behind me, comforted by my older brother who deserved someone like her. I certainly didn't. I knew that if the silence fell to leave me with her voice in my mind, I would fall into the pit of madness I knew so well. The cell I was imprisoned in had already seen enough of my fury.

Suddenly, a soft melody cut through the shouts, and my heart dropped to the floor. Everyone became still. The prisoners stopped banging on the walls of their cells, the guards stopped speaking with one another, and everyone stopped yelling. Everything fell completely silent-so silent I could hear the guard from across the room shift his weight onto his other foot-and we listened to the song.

"_Now, the stars shine brightest wherever you are, and they will shine on me no more_."

It was her.

The voice, the beautiful melody, the sorrowful lyrics-it all pointed to her.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes to welcome sleep for the first time in days. Still, I could not fall asleep. When I closed my eyes, I saw hers, and they were filled with tears. They twinkled as they fell from her green eyes, like stars falling from the night sky. She was in mourning. I could feel it. I felt the way her heart was breaking, and there was nothing I could do about it. There had been so many moments that I would run to her aid when I felt her pain and anguish, but this was one of the many moments when I wanted to be there with her, but I couldn't do it. She didn't need me, anyway. I was a monster, and she was..._not_. She was my friend, my princess, my love.

My Eva.


	2. Him

Soft, gentle hands closed around mine, and I knew the warmth of a mother. Thor was always lucky. I loved Frigga like she was my own mother, but I never wanted to intrude on the royal family. Still, I could not deny the years that they raised me before Aaldir took me in. While Odin never rejected me, he never accepted me as one of his own either. There was a fear I felt in him whenever he looked at me, like my existence disturbed him in some way. However, Frigga accepted and embraced me as if I was her daughter. Even when Aaldir took me into his home, Frigga would often make visits to the outskirts of Asgard to visit, and she would always invite me to the palace. She trained me in the art of magic. However, the one thing I appreciated her most for was her love for..._him_. She loved him and trained him just as she trained me. She was my queen and the closest thing I ever had to a mother. I loved her unconditionally because she loved _him_ unconditionally. And then there were my personal trials, moments of insecurity and fear when she stood by my side and kept each of my secrets locked away.

As her hands closed around mine, I felt the tears well up in my eyes, "my precious, precious child, there is so much pain in your heart. I wish for nothing more than to take it all away, but I cannot. How have you been feeling?" she asked as we stood in her private chambers. She had seen me fall before, like when _he_ came home and the subsequent decisions I needed to make.

"I wish not to trouble you with my sorrows, my queen," I explained, feeling the warmth surround me for the first time in over a week. I hadn't even dared to go back home. Instead, I opted to stay the nights in the forest, singing to the animals and trees. When I could, I slept beneath the tree I always had. I felt guilty for not reaching out to Aaldir, the only father I ever knew. He lost the man he came to call his son, and I did nothing to ease his pain. I could not see him. I could not see those haunting eyes and know that I could've done something more to save Hjalmar. The guilt weighed me down and kept me away from my home. I could not help but think that it should have been me instead.

As if she could hear my thoughts, Frigga squeezed my hands firmly, "I am your _mother _before I am your queen. I raised you like you were my own. While you were not in the palace for long, you never left my heart, and I made sure I saw you every day. I cannot help but worry about you," she trembled. Her outburst left me speechless, so she placed her hand on the small of my back and led me to the balcony. It overlooked the Rainbow Bridge and the Bifrost. I felt my stomach lurch violently when I remembered all I had lost on that bridge.

_Him_.

She sat down on the railing of the balcony and urged me to do the same. I could not disobey her. I sat down and stared out at the beautiful city below the palace. I could feel the life and the joy. Just because my life felt like it stopped for the time being, all life went on around me, "this place is our home for only a time. There comes a day when we all pass on, but we never truly die as long as we live on in the hearts of those who still tell our stories. Hjalmar will never truly be dead until you allow him to die. The day you forget the joy and laughter he brought into your life is the day he will die. You have lost so much in your life, my young lady, but you must always remember that death is no respecter of persons. Death comes to each one of us. It has come for some of the people I have loved the most, but I know that it's my job to live my life in a way that would make them proud. You cannot dishonor his life and memory by allowing his death to break you down into nothing," she insisted in that soft and gentle tone.

I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes, "it should have been me," I murmured as a lone tear streamed down my cheek, "it should have been me, but it wasn't. I should have protected him, but I didn't. I just want him back!"

"Oh, sweetheart. No, no, no," she breathed out, wrapping her arms around me in a warm embrace. I could finally feel the sorrow washing away little by little. Her arms always felt like a second home, but _his_ were my first one. As I buried my head into her shoulder, she stroked my hair, combing her fingers through it. As soon as I managed to pull myself together, she tilted my head up. She brushed the tears from my cheeks, and her blue eyes pierced my green ones, "I want you to listen to what I'm about to tell you. _You_ lived. You may not believe you were worthy to live, but you _are_. Be still and listen for a moment," she implored before falling silent herself.

Where the birds had once been singing their sweetest songs, it was quiet. There was nothing. The breeze did not sing to me. The voices of the people below on the streets of Asgard were not filled with the same life as they once were. When she motioned over to the plants on her balcony, I saw that the-once beautiful-flowers had wilted and turned black. I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced back over at her. She stood up but motioned for me to stay where I was. She walked over to the flowers, and I followed her with my eyes. As she plucked one of the wilted and blackened flowers from the vine, she spoke, "you still cannot see how life changes around you, how everything in your presence thrives when you are happy. You have not come to understand that you are unique in that you do not depend on life...life depends on you. Death is a part of this journey. Close your eyes," she urged after sitting down with me once more. I did as she said. She grabbed my hands in hers and placed the wilted flower in my palms before speaking again, "ever since there was life, there was death. Where there is hatred, there is love. Where there is sorrow, there is happiness. The most important thing is to find that balance. Feel his presence with you. Know that nothing truly dies, it simply retires for a little while only to return again when we need it most. Feel his energy that still surrounds you. Feel the balance," she murmured.

I silenced the doubts and the guilt in my heart. I silenced the voice that told me it should've been me who fell on Vanaheim. I listened to that small voice that I knew so well, the voice that belonged to the man who never left my side. My chest heaved, and my eyes shot open only to see Hjalmar. He stood before me, as glowing as ever. Long hair flowed in waves to the top of his waist. Hair as rich as the color of the farmland turned into golden strands at the tips. The thick facial hair couldn't cover up the grin on his full lips, and those grey eyes were warmer than ever before. I shook my head in disbelief that I could see him, but before I could make any remarks, he spoke, "I told you that nothing-not even death-could keep me away from you. I haven't lied to you before, so why would I start now?" he asked, reminding me of the promise he made me when we were still children.

Without hesitation, I threw my arms around his waist as I always had. I held him close, breathing him in, "am I dead?" I asked, pressing my cheek to his chest.

"No, but you are tapping into something extraordinary that not even you can understand. I have seen your sorrow, and I have watched you grieve. You think that this would have been easier if you were the one to fall in battle instead of me, but you have not seen what I have. I _know_ that this was meant to be. I know that you are meant for something more," he assured me, tilting my head up to catch my gaze, "you have so much left to do, Eva. Besides, I wouldn't have been strong enough to go on without you, but you can live without me."

I shook my head, "I don't know if I can. I miss you so much!" I cried, tears falling from my eyes once more. They were slow and steady, and it was one of the very few times I ever allowed myself to shed tears in front of him. He was the closest thing to a brother I had, and you didn't cry in front of your brother unless you wanted him to try to beat up the youngest Prince of Asgard. Hence the reason why I cried so little in front of him.

He smirked, the sides of his eyes crinkling, "you should never miss me, Eva because I'm never far away. I've been by your side this entire time. You cannot see me, but when you feel the wind in your hair, when you feel the warm sunshine on your skin, when you hear the birds singing, know that I'm right by your side. I am a part of you just as you were a part of me, and just because one chapter ends doesn't mean the story is complete. You need to continue writing it until you come to a happy ending. But I haven't left you, Eva. I never will," he promised.

"I love you," I reminded him.

He smiled, pressing his lips to the top of my head before losing his height to rest his forehead against my own. My eyes squeezed shut as I swallowed the lump in my throat, "I love you even more. Now, open your eyes, Eva,"

When I did, I was back on the balcony with Frigga. I glanced down into my hands to see a pure white flower where the black one had once been. I glanced over at the vines on the palace to see white flowers where they had once been just like the one in my hand-black and dead. I could hear the birds singing again, and I could feel life's energy flowing through me once more. I felt renewed, but it wasn't without the weight of the loss still upon my shoulders. I was learning to make room for it, and while I could dwell on the sorrow death could bring, happiness came when I embraced the life around me. She smiled down at me, "_you_ are the balance this world needs, Eva"

"I have voiced these concerns once before, my King," I pressed, frustrated that I had to do this all over again. I fought and bled for the throne, but it was as if he refused to see the sacrifices I made to protect the Nine Realms. I would continue to make the offer for as long as I was able. I glanced over at Thor and Frigga, who remained silent on either sides of Odin, "he has the potential to be dangerous, and his actions on Midgard were proof of how big a threat he can be. I feel that putting him in a cell _surrounded _by individuals with similar ideals is a recipe for disaster. It's just giving him time to think of a way out, and that anger he feels is fueled by the other angry individuals around him. As he has no contact with those of us who want the best for him, he doesn't have _any _positive energy surrounding him."

He leaned back on the throne, "what do you suggest we do?" he asked.

"What I've always suggested. Release him into my custody," I insisted.

"Absolutely not!" Odin boomed in a voice that echoed throughout the entire throne room, "do you even understand what you are asking? You are asking me to release an enemy of Asgard into the care of-"

I cut him off, which was something so few people had the nerve to do, but I was already overstepping the boundaries. Why not take it a hundred steps further? I spoke over him, "into the care of one of your best warriors!" I exclaimed, not wanting my voice to fall on deaf ears once again. I had brought up this issue a dozen times before, and I was going to get my way this time around. When the throne room fell absolutely silent, I sighed, "I know what I'm asking you to do. I know that I'm asking you to trust me, but you've placed a higher level of trust on me before, and I did not disappoint you. I have proven myself worthy of taking on a responsibility such as this. I've practiced magic with my queen, I've fought against Sif and Thor in the training grounds, and I helped bring _him_ to justice once before. I have proven myself a strong warrior and a capable sorceress. If he were released into my custody, I believe I could truly change the path he's on, but I need you to have that same belief in my abilities," I stated.

"And what if he fought you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I shrugged off his concern, impressed that I had made it this far without having me escorted out of the throne room. Often times, he would stand up and leave, but today, he was listening to me. I collected myself and answered him, "then, I would win."

"What if you didn't win?" he asked, imploring me to think of the possible scenarios.

I shook my head, an involuntary grin forming on my lips, "I don't lose," I answered, sure of myself and my abilities. I had fought _him_ once before, and I won. What could stop me from doing it again?

"You don't lose, but neither does Loki. One of the only reasons why he did not fight you to the best of his ability is because-" he trailed off, knowing that it was still a sensitive spot for me. I knew why the God of Mischief didn't fight me like he could have. I knew why he refused to kill me when he had the chance, when the dagger was against my throat. I knew why he didn't kill me, and it was the same reason why I didn't hurt him. Instead of bringing it up, Odin continued, "Thor couldn't even stop Loki alone. It took a team of talented individuals to save Midgard, and you think that you-_alone_-could keep Loki under control?"

"Thor made the mistake of trusting him because he loves him. Thor refused to fight him because of his feelings. If you ask anyone, you'll know that I had no problem fighting him," I lied, remembering that day clearly, "I don't trust anyone anymore, and I don't love anyone anymore-not like I used to. I believe in life, and he poses a threat to the fabric of life itself. If you think that I trust him with the one thing I hold dear, you are very wrong. That's why I'm begging you to reconsider his sentence. If he is _not _shown a different path, he _will_ get out of that cell, and he _will_ avenge his mistreatment," I explained, trying to make him see that the prisoner in question would be a threat to life no matter what, but he would wreak more havoc if left in the dungeons than if he were released into my custody and shown a different way of life.

"I appreciate your concern for the safety of the nine realms, and I realize how prepared you are to take on this significant task. However, I cannot-in good conscience-surrender Loki into your care. While I have seen your skills in battle and with magic, I cannot underestimate Loki. He will stay in the dungeons for the rest of his days!" He exclaimed, not budging at all on his sentence. I wondered how many times I would have to bring it up before he would finally crack.

My heart seemed to plunge into my stomach as I felt defeated. There was little that I wanted more than to see him, to bring back the man he had once been. I glanced back up at my King, "then...at least let me see him," I tried to bargain.

He sighed, and I noticed Thor looking away with sorrow in his eyes. We both knew what was about to come. Odin spoke, "I admire your compassion for all living things, Lady Eva, and I will be forever grateful for the music that turns the landscape into gold. The forest, the gardens, and life itself are thriving like never before, and I owe that to you. You are kind and compassionate and willing to forgive, but Loki is not at all deserving of that. He has killed and maimed on Midgard, and his solitude is only a part of his sentencing. He deserves none of the goodness in this world or in your heart, and allowing you to visit him would show him that there are no true consequences for his actions," he explained, and I grimaced, "you look upon me like I am a monster for locking him up, but I have shown him mercy by-"

I cut him off, "you have shown him _no _mercy!" I snapped in a booming voice before turning on my heel. Before I walked away from the throne, I glanced over my shoulder at the stunned king, "and by keeping me from him, you have shown _me _no mercy either," I growled.

I stormed out of the throne room before he could say another word. He sat in a stunned silence as I walked away, unsure of whether or not I had just disrespected him. I did. I was angry, and I lashed out at the King of Asgard, the Allfather, the father of my best friend. I could've been exiled for that kind of behavior, but in the moment, I didn't care. It seemed far better than the alternative, which was just sitting around and waiting for something that would never happen. While I knew that what I was asking for was a lot of trust, I believed I deserved it. I earned more than enough trust from Odin to take _him_ into my care. Besides, we would be under the ever-watchful eye of the King himself, so he didn't need to worry about _him _poisoning my judgement. I fought Odin's battles, and I lost so much of myself during them. I had killed, and I had felt the brush of death's fingertips against my own soul. I bled for the throne, and Odin refused to place any trust in me when I asked him to. He only did so when it was convenient for him.

I walked with purpose until I reached the entrance to the garden that sat directly across from the entrance to Thor's chambers. When I thought of the countless nights I had spent in the company of the God of Thunder, my breathing steadied. Whenever we weren't in the forest, we were in the garden or in his chambers. Nothing intimate ever happened between us because he _knew_ that there was only one person who held my heart. That was why it rocked him to his core when he saw how easily and unapologetically that same person destroyed it. I walked down the stone steps and into the garden. The most beautiful flowers grew there. I reached out and stroked one of the petals, feeling the velvety soft texture beneath my skin. My eyes fluttered closed, and I could feel the life within the flower. I inhaled the smell of the flowers, and I noticed the vibration of someone behind me. Frigga. I turned around, glancing at my queen as she spoke, "you know, my husband banned everyone from visiting Loki, and that includes me," she stated.

I lowered my eyes, unable to gaze into those understanding and empathetic ones that she always wore. I felt so guilty for putting her in a situation like the one I did. I was just one of _his_ friends of the past, but she still considered him her _son_. I behaved as if my needs were the only ones that were not being met, and I was wrong to ignore the feelings and needs of my queen, "I am aware, and I apologize for overstepping my boundaries, my queen," I apologized.

She chuckled, "you didn't, my little princess," she murmured, cupping my face in her hands and catching my gaze with her eyes, "you care-you _truly_ care-about my son, and you are looking out for both his best interests and the best interests of the realm. If you don't think I share your same concerns, you are deeply mistaken. I have spoken to my husband time and time again about the dangers of keeping Loki in the dungeons, but he refuses to listen. He cannot understand because he cannot bring himself to love Loki anymore, but I still do..._you_ still do," she noted, a twinkle in her eyes that hadn't been there since the day she had caught me braiding _his_ hair in the forest. There was only one other time that I had gotten a glimpse of that look, and it was after she came out of her chambers with _him_. They had been in there for quite some time, and after he came out and stood by my side, she had tears in her eyes and spoke with a lump in her throat. He told me that they were talking about me. When I questioned him as to what he said, all he told me was that he was laying out some plans with Frigga. I didn't know what he meant then, nor did I care much of it now.

I opened my mouth to argue against what she said, but she spoke before I could, "look me in the eyes and tell me that you do not harbor feelings for him anymore. Tell me that you do not think of him every waking moment of your life, just as you do _her_. Convince me that your reasons for bringing him out of the dungeons is _solely_ because you want to protect the realm and not to see if you can also rescue the man you once knew and loved. Tell me that you do not still love him, Eva, but you cannot lie to me, and you cannot continue lying to yourself. You may be able to fool Odin and cause him to believe that there is no love or trust left within you, but that has not died. It never will," she said before giving me a chance to speak. I could not bring myself to lie to her. While I tried to convince myself for so long that I harbored only ill-will toward him, I could not believe the lie any longer. I still wanted my friend back. I wanted to endure the pain that came with seeing his broken mind because it meant I got to be close to him. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away as quickly as they had come. Frigga continued, not allowing me too much time to feel the sorrow of the situation, "now, I say that my husband-and our king-also banned me from visiting Loki, but it doesn't mean I've always listened," she smirked.

I furrowed my eyebrows, "what do you mean?" I asked, confused as to what she could be insinuating. She wouldn't always have to follow the orders of the King because she was the Queen. If she told the guards to keep quiet about her visiting _him_, I was almost certain they would listen. She was respected and loved. I-on the other hand-was _not_ the queen. Still, Thor told me that I had a silver tongue, so if convincing needed to be done to see _him_, I was sure I could get past a few sets of guards.

She grinned even wider before stepping closer to me,"you have grown to be a _very _powerful sorceress, one who could hold her own against Loki if need be, one who _could_-but doesn't-play the same tricks that he used to. I have complete and utter faith that you could subdue him if need be," she complimented my abilities, ones which would not have been possible without her guidance. She taught me how to control my powers and taught me new ones as time went on. When I was afraid of what I could do, she taught me to take the fear and turn it into compassion. She taught to my strengths, and I became stronger for it. Now, she saw me as the warrior I was, "even if you can't break him out of his cell, there is a loophole. You can still visit him...as an illusion," she remarked.

My jaw dropped, "so, you're telling me to disobey the orders of my king?" I asked

She pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, an unspoken promise of love and support. She had been there to support me during some of my darkest moments, and living my life without him was no different. I knew that she would never stop loving me, no matter how many reasons I could give her not to. When she pulled away, she continued to gaze steadily into my eyes, "all I'm telling you to do is follow your heart no matter what it takes and no matter where it leads you."

It was the very last place I thought I would find myself. A cell in the dungeons. Going against the laws of my King-and with the help and guidance of my queen-I was closer to _him _than I had been in so long. I could reach out and touch him. He faced away from the center of the room where I stood, and he didn't even notice the sudden change. Perhaps, he was still overcome by the noise and hatred that filled the dungeons, or maybe his mind was still clouded with the voices I heard when I saw him on Midgard. Usually, he would feel my presence from worlds away, but when I stood in his cell, he seemed none the wiser. I swallowed hard, and for the first time since Midgard, I said it. I spoke his name, "Loki?" I murmured in a trembling voice as my knees quaked beneath me.

His shoulders tensed, but he didn't turn to look at me. He continued to stare at the cell wall, not wanting to give me the satisfaction of his reaction to my presence. I could feel it, however, no matter how hard he tried to suppress his surprise and sudden glimmer of happiness. Almost as soon as I sensed his joy, he shoved it down, and I felt his anger, "leave!" he snarled like an animal.

I chuckled as I walked over to his side. There was not much left he could say to me that would hurt my feelings, and I hadn't been expecting him to welcome me with open arms, either. The last time he saw me, I handed him over to the guards that escorted him back to the palace. I had walked behind him with Thor, and I cried the entire way. I knew that he wouldn't want to see me, so I tried to remind myself that this reaction was to be expected, "well, hello to you, too," I smiled, lowering myself to the floor with him. I faced the opposite direction, not wanting to see the filth of the dungeons. While I had a love for all things living, so many of the creatures within the dungeons ripped life apart for the fun of it. That was why I opted to gaze into the face of the man I had missed for so long.

He still didn't look at me, "I don't want to see you," he insisted, narrowing his eyes at nothing in particular. The glare was meant for me, but just like I could never bring myself to speak his name before now, he could not bring himself to look at me. He pushed himself up off the floor, and turned his back on me again. This was different, though. I could feel the conflict within him. It was the man who tried to break me on Midgard, the man who tried me to convince me that my best friend was dead. I saw that side of Loki. I could also see the scared little boy I used to play with, the man who was more afraid of himself than the ones who abused him, the man who felt unworthy of everything good in this world.

I stood up, filled with so much passion. I finally saw a fragment of the man I knew before all of this madness. I finally saw a hint of the man who would spend hours gazing up at the stars with me, the man who would sing me to sleep when I was restless and filled with theories of my parents, the man who cared so little for himself but so much for the world around him. I shrugged my shoulders, "you don't want to see me. I get it. I'd be lying if I said I wanted nothing more than to be down here, but we can't always get what we want. I'm here."

"No, you're not!" he hollered, turning quickly and throwing one of his books at me. It phased through my chest, and no harm was done. That was when his eyes finally met mine, and I saw the pain and anger in them. I was unsure if it was all directed at me or if he was still reeling from what happened after his fall from the Bifrost and up to the moment he was brought back to Asgard. He glared at me, hatred in his eyes for the woman who once felt..._so much_ for him, but it wasn't enough to make him stay. Tears of anger and rage filled his eyes, "you're nothing but a stupid illusion! As if you would actually risk your reputation and disobey Odin's orders to come down here to see a monster like me! As if your _pristine _reputation wasn't tarnished enough all the years you stood by me, you're soiling it even more by being down here. Can't you see that _this _is where I belong?" he asked, his voice growing louder and louder each passing moment.

"YOU BELONG WITH _ME_!" I snapped, my voice cracking as I felt the long-suppressed emotions rising in my chest. He stared at me in a stunned silence, completely taken aback by what I had just said. I wasn't ready to dig any deeper than that, but it was true. I couldn't bare seeing him in a place like this. I just wanted to take him away from the pain and suffering. Odin couldn't feel the pain Loki felt, but I did. Every ounce of suffering Loki went through, it was shared, and every ounce of happiness he ever felt in his life, it was shared. I didn't understand why, and I didn't understand how it worked, but it did. I could feel a hole in my chest where my heart was meant to be whenever he was gone. I could feel the abuse he received when he was being corrupted. While he did unspeakable things on Midgard, he deserved a moment of peace, and he was being tortured down here. I tried to close the space between us, but for every step I took toward him, he took an even bigger step back, "now, would you shut up and just listen for _once_? You can be so annoying sometimes," I exclaimed.

He cocked his eyebrow, "is _that _what you came here to tell me? That I'm annoying?" he asked, impatient to learn what I was truly doing down there.

I lowered my eyes, ashamed that I still felt anything for him at all. I knew that no matter how I answered the question, I couldn't bring myself to lie to him. I still cared about him, and I still wanted him to be taken care of. I swallowed hard, "I came down here to see you because...I was worried," I answered, gazing up at him.

Our eyes locked, and it was like the oceans meeting the land. His lips parted as disbelief washed over him. I knew that he never expected me to admit that I was worried about him, especially after all he had done on Midgard. I believed that he half-expected me to hate him for what he had done, and a piece of me wished I could, but...I couldn't. I _hated _what he had done, but I couldn't hate him. He cleared his throat, "what?" he asked as if he didn't hear me correctly.

"I wanted to make sure you were being taken care of, that no one was...hurting you down here. I was worried that you were being mistreated, and I wanted to see you" I confessed, not wanting to tell him the biggest reason why I wanted to see him. I couldn't tell him that it was because I missed him or that I wanted to see if there was still a glimmer of the man I once knew. There was no way I would tell him those things, no way I would tell him how weak he made me. A light smile tugged at the sides of my lips, "I've been making my case to Odin that you should be released," I said, filling him in on what I had been busy doing. While there wasn't much I had accomplished, he needed to know that I still cared.

His eyes brightened as shock and amazement flashed across his features, "you have?"

I nodded my head, "it would be into my care, but it would-"

He cut me off, crossing his arms over his chest like he used to when we were children, "I'd rather rot in this cell for the rest of my days," he snarled

"Why do you do that? Why do you _try_ to hurt my feelings? I mean, you suck at it, but why try to do that? What have I ever done to you other than show you all the kindness I can?" I asked, tired of all the pain he put me through. I was tired of having to deal with the constant push and pull that I went through when I was with him. I just wanted things to be normal again, like they were before the fall. Was it so wrong for me to want my best friend back? I didn't believe I deserved much, but after all I had been through-all I lost-I was convinced that I deserved _something _good. He remained silent, seeing the frustration and despair in my eyes. I stepped closer, and he didn't step away from me, "when we were children and Thor ran off to spend the days with his friends, who sat with you in the garden all day? When we were practicing with Frigga, and you told her that you didn't feel like you were good enough, who took the time to teach you the things you just weren't grasping? When people called you names for playing innocent tricks, when people _alienated _and _isolated _you for being different, who stood up to them and got beaten and _abused _for you? Of all the people you've pushed away time and time again, who comes back each and every time? Me. It has _always _been me!" I yelled, trying to make him understand that no matter how hard he pushed me away, I wasn't leaving him. He was right that so many others had done that to him, but he wasn't going to be right about me. I wasn't leaving.

He towered over me as the anger and fury burned like a fire in his blue eyes, "you had no one else. You were abandoned by the ones who were supposed to love you. You've always been alone, so why _wouldn't_ you come back to me each and every time I pushed you away? You had no one else to run to because everyone left you to rot...just like I'm being left to rot in this cell," he hissed.

As we stood in silence, I searched his eyes to find any conflict within them. I found none. He wanted to hurt me with those words. The man he used to be was gone in that moment. He wanted to tear me apart, to show me that I was making a mistake for believing in him and for showing him mercy. I sighed, fighting back the tears in my eyes. Even if I wanted to cry, I wouldn't because he didn't deserve to see me like that. I only wanted to bring him peace, not sorrow. I reached out to him and rested my hand on his cheek. I closed my eyes and focused all my energy on feeling him. Suddenly, there was a warmth beneath my hand. His skin. I could feel the smooth skin beneath the tips of my fingers as I had so many times before. When I opened my eyes, I saw that his eyes had fluttered closed, and he leaned into my touch, but when I pulled my hand away, they opened, and I saw his pain once again, "that's the difference between you and I, Loki. You let your past determine your future. You don't look at the bad things and say, "you know what, these are really terrible circumstances, but I'll make it through, and it'll just be something bad in my past." You hold onto all the times you've felt alone and abandoned and allow them to shape you, but you refuse to see the times when you've been loved and embraced. You refuse to see the times when I've met your pain and sorrow with love and support," I reminded him.

"I was abandoned by my parents-the people who were supposed to love me no matter what. I'll never know their names or faces. I've been taunted and alienated. I've felt alone. Do you want to know something, though? All of that negativity was what built me into the person I am today. I acknowledge it and tell myself that it was just a bad memory of my past. I don't let it live with me. I don't let it control me, and I _certainly _don't let it control my ability to feel compassion and love because life is too beautiful to allow the ugly things to shape you," I murmured, biting my quivering bottom lip to stop the tears that filled my eyes, "I am sorry I couldn't stop you from being hurt. I tried to protect you from everyone, including yourself, but I failed, and I live with that _every _day. I will never forgive myself for the way they hurt you. I should've been there to protect you every step of the way, but I let you push me away at one point. I lay in bed most nights, thinking of what I could've done differently. I think of the times you needed me most, and I wasn't there. I think of what you went through when you fell, and I hate myself for losing sight of you," I trembled, my knees shaking as I pushed back my emotions further and further. His eyes filled with sorrow as I continued to speak, "if you truly hate me, if you don't want to see me, I understand. You have no idea how much I've fought for you. You have no idea the sacrifices I've made for you, but I made them because I still care about you after all you've done. I have tried to make up for the times I couldn't be there for you, and you treat me like the dirt under your feet. Someday, the way you treat me will be just another bad memory from my past, but for today, it hurts. You've broken my heart so many times, but you've never left it."

As I stepped away from him, he stepped forward, reaching out to me. Finally, there was a hint of compassion and empathy in his eyes. Still, it was too late for that. He tried to grab me, his hand phasing through my wrist, "Eva, I didn't-"

I cut him off, not giving him a chance to say another word before I disappeared, "goodbye, Loki."


	3. Little Wolf

_Our hands brushed against each other's as we laid in the cool grass that had been shielded from much of the sunlight during the day thanks to the trees that stood almost as tall as the pillars in the throne room. The blades of grass seemingly sang to us as they brushed against each other with as much delicacy as my hand against his. As I craned my neck to the side, ignoring the stars in the night sky for a moment, I gazed into the eyes of the brightest star of them all. Loki. I didn't know how long he had been staring at me, but it had been long enough for my face to flush with color. His lips pulled up into a cheeky grin, and I was reminded of a time when we were children. It was seldom that we __didn't__ watch the stars with each other at night._

_When we were children, we both watched the stars together. As we grew up, we found ourselves watching each other more often than not. I loved watching him as he gazed up at the stars, amazement overcoming his features. To those who didn't know him the way I did, Loki was cold and logical. I saw a different man. He was poetic and sensitive. He was beautiful and warm. In that moment, he looked at me the same way he used to look at the stars, with a burning question in his eyes that said, "how was something so perfect created from nothing at all?" And that was why I became bashful._

_For a moment, we laid in complete silence just staring at each other. What started as a night of appreciating the beauty that nature had to offer was quickly turning into something so much more than that. When he noticed the glint of reluctance in my eyes, he silenced every doubt with a look of mischief and thrill as he intertwined our fingers. At the time, I was sure it was to cause me some sort of discomfort or to fuel the fire of embarrassment. However, it was because he wanted to feel me the same way I wanted to feel him. As those slender fingers intertwined with mine, I felt myself pushing my body closer to his, leaving almost no space between the God of Mischief and myself._

_A piece of me tried to pass off the gesture as something much more innocent than what my own mind was trying to conjure up, but an even larger piece of me knew that this was the start of something I didn't know if I was ready for. I didn't know if I wanted to risk the relationship I had with my best friend for something that felt so trivial at the time. However, I could no longer fight off feelings that had been present since the very beginning. We had already pushed the boundaries too far on nights we were feeling unstoppable, and they were some of the best nights of my life. As he held my hand in his own, I tested the waters by giving it a gentle squeeze, seeing that the effect was a playful grin from him. The mischief melted away from his eyes, and he radiated the warmth and compassion I knew him for._

_He rolled over onto his side, and I followed him, completely in sync with his motions. Our hands stayed connected and continued to rest in the grass. His other hand reached up to brush the stray strands of hair from my face as he gently caressed my cheek with every motion. His touch was featherlight and filled with tenderness and love. I leaned into his touch and reached up to rest my free hand against his cheek. My fingers danced along the soft skin beneath the tips of my fingers. I took note of his sharp jawline, his chiseled cheekbones, and every dip and angle in his perfect face. Each feature was burned into my memory from the countless years admiring him and touching him. There was only a single patch of his skin that my fingers hadn't already travelled, and I was certain that the day would someday come for that as well._

"_You are so beautiful, my lady," he finally spoke, a voice that felt like velvet as the warmth of his breath cascaded across my face. He drew even closer to me as his eyes flickered over my face to see that my cheeks burned with diffidence. He knew what his words did to me, but he couldn't help himself. I could feel that he was speaking his truth when words of praise spilled from his lips for me. I knew that he told me no lies, but I still felt like I was undeserving of his admiration. To me, no one would ever be deserving of something so pure from him, for he was the closest to perfect one could get. I wanted to keep him pure and unscathed, which was why I protected him. Maybe that was why he also protected me._

_The sides of my lips tugged up into a shy smile, "you cannot admire the stars if your eyes are on me."_

_He chuckled, "you act as if you don't already know," he spoke, pressing his forehead against my own. It was something he did often when we were alone. The closeness allowed me to breathe in the scent of him. He smelled of the breeze when it rolled through the forest, carrying the smell of nature with it. He smelled like life, which had no particular scent but freshness. I couldn't help but close my eyes and smile as I felt our energies bleeding into one another. I nuzzled my face even closer to his, our noses grazing against each others. Sensing that there was still space left, he tilted his head ever so slightly to bring our faces impossibly closer._

_When I realized what we were doing, I spoke, "what of the stars, Loki?" I asked, reminding him that his attention should not be wasted on me. Still, I didn't move from my position, feeling alive once more as he held me._

_I could feel the smirk on his lips before he spoke, "I care not of the stars when I look at you for you are brighter and far more beautiful than they could ever hope to be," he said, causing my heart to swell with joy. His voice lowered as his lips brushed against mine, sending a current through my body, "besides, I have no great love for the stars, not like the love I have for you," he murmured before pressing his lips to mine, allowing me no time to respond; however, as soon as his lips met mine, I didn't care about anything else but him. His kiss was gentle, like the water lapping at your feet or the breeze in your hair on a warm night. It had not been the first time he kissed me. We began our love affair-if one could call it that-when we were still young. It was when we were no longer in our childhood, but we weren't quite adults yet. We were in the strange process of discovering our place in the world, and in the meantime, we discovered each other. I always figured that Loki just needed time to realize that he could have someone far greater than me, someone with a name and something more to give._

_As our lips danced with each others-slow and steady, like our relationship-I heard him. I heard the thudding of his heart and realized that he was nervous about initiating the kiss, like he always was. I heard a gentle groan that was born deep within his chest. I heard the fluttering of his eyelashes, like the wings of a butterfly, and I realized that he couldn't keep his eyes closed. Instead, he opened them every so often and checked to make sure that he was not just imagining this. I only heard him. I only felt him. It was just the two of us in our own beautiful moment, and I realized that I was waiting for something that would not happen. I was waiting for Loki to figure out that he didn't want me, that he could do so much better, but I knew that the moment he left me, the moment he forsook me, would never come. I didn't know what I did to deserve a love so beautiful and so sweet, but I had him, and I was going to enjoy what time we had together because I loved him._

_With the sudden realization that my feelings were reciprocated, my heart swelled with joy, and a lump rose in my throat. I pulled away from the soft and sweet kisses and opened my eyes, allowing the tears to form without feeling embarrassed about them. For so long, I was sure that the only love I would know was the love I had to give, but I never thought I could know a love so strong and so pure that was all for me. As those blue eyes fluttered open, they met mine with fear that he had done something wrong or that he had hurt me in some way. When he saw the tears in my eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, "oh, Eva, did I hurt you? I didn't mean to. What happened?" he asked, frantically trying to figure out what was wrong._

_I could only smile in response to his distress, laughing at how quick he was to assume that he had done something wrong. Even though it hurt to know that he thought of himself as a monster who could only bring suffering and pain into the lives of others, I couldn't help but feel special in that he wanted to preserve me. Finally, words found me once more, and I said the words to him that he had said to me for years. I gazed into his eyes as the universe fell into place, "I love you, Loki. I have __always __loved you," I professed in a voice low enough that not even the trees could hear. I wanted to shout my love for him from the highest mountain, but I wanted the beginning of-what would be-our whirlwind love story to be sacred between just us._

_He was left speechless for a moment, but his disbelief faded slightly as tears of joy filled his eyes, "I love __you__, Eva."_

_I smiled up at him, "I love you more," I whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss to his lips._

_It was the first time I told Loki I loved him, and it was the first time I saw him cry. It was the beginning of the centuries we would spend together before the fall._

_*End of Flashback*_

Heimdall's deep voice brought me back to the present, "you think not of Hjalmar but of Loki. His darkness plagues you still," he said, orange eyes staring out into the vast universe. He always seemed to be contemplating something, but at the same time, he was without all judgement. His dark skin glowed brighter than the golden armor upon him. He had the beauty of every warrior before him, but what made him more beautiful than so many was the way he viewed life. He believed that life was to be preserved no matter what, and it was our shared belief that drew us closer together. Just as I was about to argue with him, he spoke again, "you have visited me more times than anyone in Asgard. You have spoken my name more than the Allfather himself. You have spent more time looking out across the vast Universe with me than Thor, himself, a man whose love for the stars has always been insatiable. You have entrusted me more of your deepest and most personal secrets than the queen, a goddess who often stared across the universe with me while filling my ear with details of her life that almost no one else knew. All this, yet you do not think I can see right through you," he remarked, stoically and without so much as a glance.

My eyes lowered as I processed his words. It was true. Heimdall had been one of the few people who could read me like an open book. He knew my every thought and feeling before it even occurred. It was worthless to attempt to hide anything from him, especially the truth, "I miss Hjalmar, but...I cannot bring him back to me no matter what I do. I cannot right the wrongs that led to his death. I do still feel like there is something to be done about Loki. I still feel like I can bring him back to me, which would right so many of the wrongs in my life. The memory of Hjalmar haunts me still, but I'm trying to focus my mind on something that I can fix," I explained, gazing up at the strong features of the gatekeeper.

The sides of his mouth twisted into the subtlest grin I had ever seen, but it was still there, "what you fail to realize is that death is not something that requires fixing. You do not lack the ability to fix death because it is just as much a part of life as living," he stated, finally peeling his steely gaze away from the universe and focusing it on me. When I gazed up into those bright and burning eyes, I was overwhelmed by the beauty in them. He had seen so much beauty and so much pain, and I witnessed all of it every time we locked eyes. He continued, "I can still see him, and he misses you more than you know. He misses you with the same intensity as you miss him. He waits patiently for you, though, because he knows that it is not your time to reunite with him just yet. While he yearns for your company, you should see his joy. He has been reunited with his family, and when you meet your heroes end, you will be reunited with him as well. This doesn't mean you should ignore your blessings while you are still among the living, though," he explained, hinting at the one thing that I had not brought up, the one thing I refused to call attention to.

I still had not been home to see Aaldir. I had not mourned the death of Hjalmar with him, and instead, I forced him to mourn alone. I could not face him, knowing that it should have been me. Hjalmar was the only son he ever knew, and I knew that Aaldir would be devastated. I just didn't know how to go home after this. I stared back out into the dazzling universe, desperately wanting to change the subject, "how are they?" I asked, knowing that Heimdall would understand my vague question.

"They are all in stable condition," he answered as I felt his gaze shift from me and back out to the stars. It was as if he was watching them as he spoke, "Agents Barton and Romanoff have not left each other's sides since New York, and they manage to keep each other stable. I think that Captain Rogers is handling it better than all of them, considering that he was still trying to rehabilitate himself when he was pulled back into the fight. Still, he is lonely and...isolated. I believe he could benefit from your company. Dr. Banner is also handling the stress well, but he has learned to master his own mind," he added before letting out a deep sigh-something he usually did before mentioning Tony Stark, the man I always worried about the most. Not many people could see it and understand it, but Tony Stark was the embodiment of all that I held dear in my life, and when I saw his eyes after his fall from the wormhole, I couldn't hold back my rampant protective instincts. Heimdall focused his attention back on me, "Stark is having a..._difficult_ time coping with what happened, but he grounds himself in his work as much as he can. His state worries me the most, but I keep a close eye on him, as you requested, and I know to inform you if any of them are in danger."

I gave him a curt nod, "thank you, Heimdall, not only for your council, but for taking on yet another responsibility just to appease me," I remarked, my voice filled with gratitude for the man who was not only the Gatekeeper to my home, but also one of my dearest friends. I remained silent for a moment, not even a breath escaping my lips as I thought of the one person he failed to mention. I was unsure if it was to keep from hurting me or if-because the previous time he told me of her-I shed tears in front of him, which was something I rarely did. I gazed out at the beautiful universe and wondered if she was just as fond of the stars as I was or...if she was gazing up at them as well, our souls connecting through them for just a moment. I felt the tears rising in my eyes and the lump in my throat, "and what of her?" I asked, unsure of whether or not I truly wanted an answer.

One of his strong hands disconnected from his sword, and it grasped mine, calloused fingers wrapping around my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. My bottom lip quivered as I thought of her, of all the moments we shared before I did to her what Loki had done to me, "you did what was _right_, my lady," that deep and smooth voice reminded me, "she is safe. She feels lonely-isolated-but she is safe, which was what you wanted for her. She knows not why she feels such sorrow and loss, but she doesn't think of you...if that is any consolation," he claimed, knowing that it was, "they miss you, Lady Eva. They all do. The people of Midgard still celebrate your courage to fight in New York, but the ones you fought beside know just how much the battle took from you. If they had a Watcher, they would be keeping a close eye on you, too," he reminded me, "but you have others _here _who need you. I beg you to remember them as well."

I choked back the tears as I gazed out across the Rainbow Bridge that led back to the beautiful city that surrounded the palace. I shook my head, ashamed that I had been so selfish to ignore the man who gave up his life to raise me, a man who had lost so much already. I let my guilt stand in the way of me supporting him, and I didn't know how to go back after that. I tried to swallow back the lump in my throat before I spoke, "the problem is that I do not know how to return home. I know the way, but I do not wish to see the table my family once sat around, now with another empty chair. I do not wish to be in a silent room that had once been filled with his laughter. I cannot stand the thought of facing the man who raised me because I failed to protect his son!" I exclaimed, allowing a stray tear to fall.

"Never has there been a moment more tragic than when a goddess cries," he murmured in a low voice as he reached out to wipe the tear from my cheek. I was no goddess, but I wouldn't argue with him, not after my outburst, "are you not just as much Aaldir's daughter as Hjalmar was his son?" he asked, pressing me to contemplate my reasoning for avoiding Aaldir, "you forget that he is the God of Mercy. Even if he harbored ill will toward you-which he never has-he has forgiven every mistake and every misdeed you ever have and ever will commit. Do not doubt his compassion and love for you, Lady Eva. Go to him. Mourn with him. Comfort him in the way only _you_ can," he urged me, resting his hand on my shoulder and giving it a light squeeze.

I nodded my head, knowing that he was right. He made too many valid points for me to refuse his council, "if anything changes on Midgard or with..._her_...just-"

He cut me off, "you will be the first to know," he smiled, knowing what I always made him promise me that before I left. I only wished to protect the ones I regarded as friends. I knew that Loki's actions left a lasting impact upon the Midgardians, especially the Avengers. While I knew they didn't need me to watch out for them, _I_ needed to do that for myself. They deserved all the protection I could offer them because they chose to spare Loki when they could have killed him. I owed them everything. Tony was the most deserving of every ounce of my protection, for he took on the greatest responsibility of them all.

Knowing that Heimdall would keep his word, I turned away from him and made my way down the rainbow bridge, wishing for anything to stop me from making it home. Every step I took was another step closer to the place house Hjalmar and I grew up in, another step closer to the woods we used to play in every morning as children, another step closer to realizing that he was gone and that all I had left were memories. I didn't allow the tears to begin falling until I reached the secluded woods surrounding our home. I followed the long path Hjalmar and I used to stray from because he had a strong belief that "adventuring is what makes life fun." As soon as I dried the tears shed because of a beautiful memory, another memory would resurface, and more tears would fall. It was a losing battle, and upon realizing that, I allowed the tears to flow freely and without shame in them.

As I reached the end of the trail, I finally saw the modest cottage. My legs froze, and it felt like I was unable to breathe. I closed my eyes, the tears that budded on my eyelashes finally spilling down my cheeks. A whirlwind of memories flooded my mind. I could remember when Hjalmar was chased by a wild boar, and I refused to let him in the house because he was dirty and would ruin the freshly cleaned floors. I could remember when I was scolded by Aaldir for playing with the wolves outside, but I would still sing to them and bring them the food scraps whenever I could. Hjalmar knew about it, but he never told our father of it. I could remember Hjalmar breaking one of the branches of a tree whilst trying to climb it, and I cried so much that he planted a new one just for me. I could remember when my father presented me with my first sword, Thunderguard, Hjalmar practiced with me all day. He had been the one to inspire the name, telling me that I would someday fight on the battlefield with the God of Thunder, and it would be my sword to protect him. Aaldir made all of our weapons on his own, and he was the one who saw to it that my current sword, the one he presented to me when I returned from my first battle, was crafted perfectly by the dwarves of Nidavellir.

"_Go inside."_

Hjalmar's voice was soft but sure, and there was not a question in my mind that it belonged to him. I knew that voice better than my own. My eyes shot open, and I whipped around, frantically searching for him only to realize that it was merely a disembodied voice. When I turned back around, I noticed that the door into my childhood home was ajar, and Aaldir stood in the doorway. He didn't move a muscle, but I knew it was merely out of shock to see that I had finally come home. As soon as I saw those soft brown eyes, the ones I had looked into all my life, I broke down. I no longer cared about what I would find missing within the walls of my home, but all I needed was my father.

As I ran toward him, he closed some of the space between us, arms wide open and waiting for me. I crashed into his body, throwing my arms around his waist, and knocking him back. Immediately after his strong arms wrapped around my frame, I buried my face into his chest and let the tears flow. His left arm stayed locked around my waist while his right hand rubbed circles on my back to soothe me. His body trembled as he choked back his own emotions. He always reminded Hjalmar and I that a true warrior is not ashamed of his own sorrow but embraces it when the time comes. I knew that he was desperately trying to ignore his own emotions to comfort me, but he was failing quickly.

"I tried to save him, but...I couldn't. It should have been me!" I sobbed, pieces of Hjalmar's final moments flashing across my closed eyes. I gripped my father's shirt tighter, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" I cried, allowing myself to fall apart with the knowledge that he was the first person I ever trusted to do that in front of. I crumbled, and he picked up all the shattered pieces and put me back together in time with his unconditional love.

He peeled me away from him just enough to cup my face with his calloused hands that had seen thousands of years of war. Those deep and haunting brown eyes were stern when he caught my gaze. Before he could speak, the tears fell down his cheeks and were caught in his brown beard that had begun to turn grey with age. He looked like a broken man in that moment, a man I had never seen before. Even when Hjalmar and I returned from battle, riddled with injuries, he never allowed us to see this side of him. Now, I saw him in such a different light. He was afraid. His eyes searched mine as he spoke, "I _never_ want to hear you say those words again. I never want you to think that it should have been you!" he exclaimed, his voice deep and filled with emotion, "in a perfect world, I would have both of my children in my arms right now, and even though I have a pain in my heart where Hjalmar once was, I still have my little girl. I don't want to think of what it would feel like to have lost both of you, and if I know anything about you, I know that you would have gotten yourself killed trying to protect him. The fact that you're here right now tells me that there was nothing to be done to save him. You have nothing to be sorry for, Eva. You came back home to me, and this is where you belong," he murmured, ignoring the tears on his cheeks to wipe away the tears from mine.

"He should be here, too," I noted, pressing my face back to his chest.

He sighed that very particular sigh that a father used when he didn't know how to fix the broken heart of his child. Aaldir had done that many times as I was growing up, and one of the last times he did it was when Loki had fallen from the bifrost. Loki had been just as much a son to him as Hjalmar. Aaldir always showed the trickster as much compassion and love as Odin should have. Where Odin failed to see Loki's many talents, Aaldir celebrated him. I could remember moments when Odin was too busy watching Thor train that he would brush aside a hopeful Loki who had only wished to show him the new spell he learned. Aaldir, however, would sit for hours and listen to Loki talk about books, the stars, magic, Frigga, and...me. My father saw something in the young prince that not many others did, and he did his best to pull Loki to the light. I saw the sorrow in my father's eyes when Loki fell, almost like he had lost a part of himself, too. For months, he comforted me as I cried myself to sleep, as I mourned the loss of my love, and I heard that same sigh. This time, it was because he couldn't bring Hjalmar back. He could not fix my broken heart, but I knew that it would mean he would attempt to fill it with more love than ever before.

In one swift motion, he scooped me up into his arms, "I've got you, little wolf. Everything's going to be okay," he promised, and in that moment, I realized that even though I didn't know how to return home, I had a father who would never give up on me. No matter how frightening the path may be or how dark it may seem, he would always find me and carry me home. I didn't need to know the way.

*Thor's POV*

Eva's long brown hair cascaded over her body as I carried her through the halls of the palace with my mother in tow. Ephinea had talked Eva into accompanying her to the celebration of Hjalmar. It was a party thrown in honor of him. While I expected Eva to be in attendance, she was adamant that she would not be going when I invited her a week prior. However, when Ephinea asked her, she seemed to have a change of heart. I half-expected her to pay tribute to him with a song, but she drank the same way he used to. Perhaps, she was honoring him by remembering the way he lived, or she was drowning her sorrows in the ale he loved most. Either way, the night ended with her singing on top of one of the tables as everyone cheered her on. When I finally managed to coax her off of the table, she sat down on my lap and promptly fell asleep whilst the crowd continued singing and drinking.

That led us to this moment. I carried her down the hallways toward Loki's chambers, knowing that she would feel most at home in there. She had finally spoken his name after quite some time refusing to do so. I knew that the loss of Hjalmar only made the problems with Loki even more tender. It only made her fight even harder for his freedom. While I knew my father would not budge on the subject, I also knew that Eva would not take "no" for an answer when it came to him. She _would_ get him out of his cell one way or another. If I knew one thing about her, it was that she was more willful than anyone else I had ever met in my entire life. I took pity on any man who stood between her and the ones she loved. I would take pity on my father when the time came.

Upon reaching the doors that I had opened without invitation time and time again when I was younger, my mother pushed it open for me, allowing me the space to pass over the threshold with Eva in my arms. I walked her over to the bed, laying her body across the sheets she had slept beneath so many times before. While I knew not of the extent of their relationship, I knew that Eva would often find herself in Loki's chambers in the early hours of the morning. The two would often sneak back to the palace after staying out late and watching the stars. Some nights, they would fall asleep beneath the night sky, and I would not see him until the next morning. There were also times when Aaldir would invite Loki into his home. I had received such invitations as well, but Loki and Eva had a special relationship that I'd never witnessed between two people before.

As soon as I laid her down onto the bed, the unconscious beauty grasped onto his pillow tightly, never once waking up. She curled up into the vast array of pillows and quickly became entangled in the bedsheets. I smiled at the similar view. I had witnessed it once before. Loki, Eva, and I came back after a night of celebration, and Loki offered his bed to her. Of course, she took up the offer, as Loki's bed had an unnecessary amount of pillows, which she loved. He never had that many when we were young, but he built up quite the collection, and upon realizing that she loved a bed filled with pillows, he only added more. On that night, Eva had been so tired that she laid down in the bed, tossed and turned until she was comfortable, and when she finally found the perfect spot, she was as still and unmoving as a mountain. Loki and I had shared a laugh at that. It was one of the quirks I watched him fall in love with, and it was something that made me love her even more-she made my brother happy.

Mother stood in the back of the room by the door, but I couldn't leave the side of the bed to join her. Instead, I could only stare down at Eva, reminiscing of a time we all knew peace. As I stood, gazing at the woman I had fallen in love with years ago, mother's voice pierced the silence that fell, "she misses him. I can see it in her eyes every day," she noted with a bittersweet smile as she watched Eva cling to the few things that reminded her of my brother. It was much more than just the pillows.

I turned to meet her eyes, but she was watching the sleeping girl. Eva was a princess if there ever was one, and I believed we could all see it. Soft and flawless sun-kissed skin was dusted with the smallest imperfections across her nose and cheeks. They were barely visible, but once you were close enough, they were all you could notice. They were like stars dusted across the night sky. They did nothing to take away from her beauty but added to it. There were her angular cheekbones that could cut through a man's heart, and there was the thin slope of her nose. Her hair was dark like the eyes of her father, but what took every man and woman's breath away were those eyes. They sat below full brows that came to a soft arch, and they were more brilliant than emeralds, a green that matched the colors of spring. Her eyes were without imperfections. No other colors dared to taint the purity of that green. Every time she looked at me, I was left speechless. While I admired their hauntingly beautiful glow, they were filled with so much melancholy that it made me want to cry. I had never seen a woman more beautiful than her, so beautiful that even her tears were stunning, falling like twinkling stars from the sky. They shimmered and sparkled, making it impossible for me to look away and respect her grief, which I had seen on countless occasions.

As my mother gazed upon the sleeping princess, I replied to her comment, "she's been missing him for some time now. He abandoned her more than a year ago," I scowled, thinking of how my brother could do something so selfish to someone who gave him everything she had to offer. She bore his burdens, and she lost everything for him. She made sacrifices for him that he would never know, and she gave him a gift he would never receive because of his stupidity and selfishness. She loved him, and he tossed her aside. I knew what led to his ultimate downfall, but...they could've run away together.

"You honestly believe that?" mother asked, sensing what I had been feeling, "if your father denied Loki of his happiness before, do you truly believe that he would allow them to run away together? Do you believe he _wouldn't _search high and low for them? Do you have faith that he _wouldn't _wage a war against your brother to get her back?" she asked, finally meeting my eyes. I shook my head, shame overcoming me for even thinking that it could've been so simple. I knew that my father had compassion for Loki, but it wasn't love, not like the love he had for me. If he did, he would've agreed to Loki's offer just to see him happy. It was why my mother felt so much sympathy for him. He found the one thing worth living for, and Odin denied him of simple happiness.

She motioned for me to join her at her side, "you say that she's been missing him for so long because he abandoned her a short time ago, but she never abandoned him. She mourned him the same as we all did when he fell from the Bifrost. She was the first to go to Earth when she found out he was there, and she reached out to him to give him another chance. She was the last one to leave the throne room when he was being sentenced, and she was the first one who spoke out against your father, _her king_, in an attempt to free Loki into her care," she reminded me of all the times Eva has refused to give up on a man who hurt her with such brutal vigor. On Midgard, it was like he hurt her for the fun of it, like he found joy in bringing her pain and suffering, but she continued to fight for him. Mother continued, "she's seen what he has done, and it has _terrified _her. I've seen how it shakes her, how the fear rattles her bones. I know who and _what _she is, and I know that she sings the songs of life. Wherever she goes, life and nature thrive like never before. People are happy, the music is more beautiful, the flowers bloom even when it is not the season for them. She values life, and to see the man who means so much to her threaten that, it tears her apart and terrifies her. However, she still believes there's a piece of him that is good, like he can still be saved. She misses the man he once was, and she misses the love they once shared. While he did abandon her some time ago, it's harder now than ever before because he's so close, but she cannot be near him," she explained.

"He doesn't care about her anymore, so she'd be better off if she _did_ let him go," I scowled, still tense and upset about what he did to her. While I knew that my feelings toward him were born out of my love for her, I tried to understand why he acted out. I didn't know how I would react in his situation, so I tried not to pass judgement on my brother.

My mother cleared her throat, gazing back at the sleeping girl, "just like you would be better off if you let _her _go," she remarked, reminding me that my behavior was just as unhealthy as I believed hers was.

I shook my head, "it's different. I would treat her well!" I exclaimed, trying to make my mother understand that there would never come a day when I would _try_ to hurt her. There would never come a day when I would lay my hands on her unless it was out of love. On Midgard, Loki broke his code of honor when it came to her. I had the most vivid memory of finding him on Midgard and finding out what he had done to her. Of course, he was swallowed by madness at that point, and her presence only drove him further into the abyss. I could remember the horrible things he said to her, words I wouldn't even recall in my own mind because they were so vile. He destroyed her on Midgard, but he also surrendered because of her. The moment he realized what he was doing was brought upon by her showing him the same compassion she always had as she was on the brink of death, and she would have let it happen. She never fought him.

Mother's voice pulled me from my own thoughts, "Loki believes the only way he can protect her is by sending her away. That's why he pushed her away before he fell from the Bifrost and before he turned against you. He wanted to protect her. Is he misguided? Yes. Does he believe he is doing the right thing? I think so. Your brother is sacrificing the one thing he cares for just because he doesn't want to taint something so good, and he believes that his presence brings pain. A handful of us watched Eva do the same not too long ago," she stated, sorrow in her voice, "I know of no one who can simply stop loving a person, and you should be the first to know what that is like," she murmured.

"My feelings for Eva aren't what we're talking about," I reminded her, never feeling like it was right to delve into my most private emotions. I loved her, but that was a secret I would bring to my deathbed.

"Are they not?" she asked, furrowing her thin eyebrows. She reached between us and grasped my hands in hers, "I see the way you still look at her, my son. It's the same way you used to look at her when the two of you were younger. She is _still _the object of your affection. You have tried your best to move on with this Midgardian girl, and you have tried to forget the feelings you harbor for Eva, but you have seen that it's not that simple," she said, mentioning my failed relationship with Jane. While I had feelings for the Midgardian woman, they were _nothing _compared to the feelings I harbored for Eva, and it was unfair for me to pretend like they were. I fancied other women-Ephinea and Sif-but I was still "hung up"-as Tony Stark would put it-on Eva. My mother's slender fingers stroked the back of my hand as I thought of all the time I spent wishing for just one chance with Eva, but I would've never tried to take that away from Loki. I still wouldn't. Mother's voice cut through my own distress, and her words brought me some solace, "still, just as one cannot stop loving another, one cannot force themselves to love another. Eva harbors that love for only one person, and even though she tries to deny it, we've always known that he would be her undoing, and she would be his saving grace."


	4. The Day Death Cried

_I wandered aimlessly through the darkness, the only light coming from the stars above me. Once I stumbled down the stairs of the palace, I was lost. I did not know where I was, but I could hear a soft song in the distance. The voice was haunting but...familiar. I knew it from somewhere but failed to recall, my mind betraying me. When I finally managed to pinpoint which direction the voice was coming from, I followed it, feeling like the closer I got, the heavier my heart became. Finally, I reached a barren field with nothing but dry grass beneath my feet. A small light illuminated the center of the field, and I saw a silhouette hunched over a small mound of dirt._

_No matter how long I walked, it still felt like I wasn't closing any of the distance between the mysterious figure and myself. Soon enough, I was sprinting through the grass, catching myself every few moments from falling onto the ground. I was terrified that if I were to lose sight of the figure for even a second, it would disappear into the night surrounding it. As the figure became clearer, I saw that it was a woman dressed in a gown as black as a night that swallowed the stars. When I finally reached the edge of the light, I stopped, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. I could, however, see that the mysterious woman knelt in front of a small sapling. From its leaves, teardrops fell and soaked into the soil beneath it. That was when I finally understood who this woman was: Death._

_This was the story of the tree. As my breathing steadied and my heart rate returned to normal, I heard a faint cry coming from her, but they were not the cries of Death. No, this was the small cry of an infant. As I stepped to the side of her, I noticed that she cradled two children against her chest. The children looked to be only days old, and the smallest one cried with Death. The tears that streaked down Death's cheeks were as black as her eyes themselves. There was not an ounce of color in them, but they lacked no emotion. As she stared down at the children in her arms, she let out a wail that shook the very ground I stood upon, the black tears falling to the sapling beneath her. The wail was high pitched and pierced the air around us, causing me to flinch away and cover my ears. Her rage was just as clear as her sorrow, and her extreme emotion caused the smallest child to cry even louder. In a desperate attempt to soothe the baby, she stroked its cheek, wiping the tears from its eyes in the process. The tears that fell from the child's green eyes twinkled like stars falling from the night sky._

_Wishing to leave my minds strange, ale-driven perception of the story, I turned to walk away. However, as soon as I did, her voice cut through the cries of her child with that similar melody, "I wish to stop time and stare at the stars, for just one more moment with you. Now stars shine brightest wherever you are, and they will shine on me no more," she sang, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. My eyes widened as I finally recognized the song she had been singing. It was a different variation of the one I sang for Hjalmar, but...those words...I knew those words. When I turned around to ask her, I saw that she was already standing, facing me. The children were gone, and my cheeks were wet with tears as I was reminded of my own sorrow, a sorrow I shared with her. I also shared her rage at the people who took Hjalmar away from me, the people who robbed him of a peaceful death. Her black eyes bored into my own, black stains marking where her tears had been. Then, she reached out to me and rested her hand against my cheek, wiping away my tears._

I sucked in a labored breath as my heart began racing. It felt like I had been running for days. My body ached, and my head pounded. My eyes darted around the room as I tried to take in the surroundings. As soon as I saw the balcony that overlooked the forest, I knew where I was: Loki's chambers. Countless nights, I felt his restless body rise from the bed, and I would watch him walk to the balcony and gaze out at the forest and mountains in the distance. I was reminded of some of my most precious memories, but I pushed them aside when I began the process of trying to figure out _how_ I got to Loki's room. The last thing I could remember clearly was Ephinea showing up at the house. She told me about a celebration that was being thrown in honor of Hjalmar, and she promised there would be a lot of drinking, which was why I went in the first place. While I wasn't ready to celebrate Hjalmar's life-because I was still mourning his death-I was going to receive a helping hand from the ale.

I could remember bits and pieces of the night, like dancing with Fandral and sitting on Thor's lap when I grew tired. No matter how hard I tried, though, I could not piece together how I got to Loki's room or _why_ I was in Loki's room of all places. It was exactly as I remembered it, almost as if he changed nothing between the moment he pushed me away and the fall. I stood up from the bed, pulling the sheets with me as I always did. I walked over to the balcony and rested my hand on the railing, imagining that he was still standing right next to me. In the darkness, he would always allow his fingers to brush against mine on the railing, almost as if he was teasing me. It would usually lead to featherlight kisses until he followed me back to bed. Now, I stood at the balcony alone, staring out at the beauty of the forest. For a moment, I entertained the idea that my dream had been a vision and not just a strange nightmare. However, I laughed off the idea when I thought of how bizarre it was. The chances that Death had visited Asgard without destroying the life within was slim. It could not have been true, and the myth of the tree was just that...a myth.

I turned away from the balcony and walked over to the desk that sat in a corner of the room. Aaldir had crafted it as a gift to Loki on his 100th birthday, and Loki kept it in pristine condition ever since. I always took the time to admire the craftsmanship, small and intricate carvings scattered across the desk. Loki used it for writing. He would sit at the desk for hours, crafting beautiful poems and stories. He would often read them to me late at night as I began to fall asleep with my head on his chest. Most of the time, he would request a song as he wrote, and I would oblige whenever he asked. However, he would usually only write for a short time before giving up and watching me. He used to call me his muse, whether he was writing or painting or sketching pictures in his books. He always credited every work to me, and I always told him that every song I sang was because he put the music inside my heart. Now, the room was quiet.

My fingers danced along one of the many journals he kept on top of the desk, and I noticed the paper in the middle of the desk. It was folded with crisp and tight lines, and in the middle was a green wax seal that matched the color of my eyes. It was for me. The wax he normally used for the seal was as gold as the palace itself, but all the notes and letters he left for me were sealed with the green wax that caught my eyes in that moment. There were countless mornings I would wake up at home and find a letter he left for me in the night. They would always be filled with sweet nothings, like how he thought I was the embodiment of everything good and pure that was left in him. The letters were romantic, and his words sometimes left me flushed. The mornings I woke up in his arms needed no letter, for the God of Mischief would whisper every word in his heart against my skin between kisses.

This letter, though, was meant for me, but he had not sent it. He had not ordered for it to be taken to me. Instead, it was left in the center of his desk, untouched. I desperately wanted to open it, to see what he wrote to me. I wondered if it was an explanation of some sort because he would refuse to explain himself now. Perhaps, it was a goodbye. Maybe he had every intention of dying before his fall from the Bifrost, or maybe it was one of his "just in case" letters because he was preparing for every possible scenario. Perhaps, he was telling me once more that our time together was a mistake and that he wished it never happened in the first place as he did weeks before he fell. It was possible he just wanted to push me away one final time. I would never know because it wasn't my place to read it, especially considering he had not explicitly sent it to me. Instead, it was left on his desk, which could have been an open invitation for me to read it. He had always been the most calculating person I'd ever known, but I was one of the few people who knew why.

My heart had been heavier more often than not since I'd gone down to the dungeons to see him with the help of my Queen. This time, though, I wanted to see him in person. I did not wish to visit him as an illusion, even though I was aware that I was now fully capable to do so. Instead, I would take the risky approach. I closed my eyes and focused my mind on the various life energies within the castle walls. As I clenched my fist, I dropped the veil over their eyes. It was an illusion and something I picked up from Loki. I had never been one to tamper with minds, but I did so if I viewed it as justified. Odin had driven me to this place, he drove me to the point of desperation.

When I finally opened the door, I walked through the hallways and past the guards without receiving a single glance from them. More often than not, they would greet me and speak with me for a short time. A few would even offer to walk me to wherever I was going. Tonight, with the veil over their eyes, I was free to walk past them without them questioning my destination. I would be able to visit Loki. As I passed the guards and began to descend the stairs that led into the dungeons, I realized that Loki would also be under my illusion. He would not see me, nor would he hear me. He wouldn't even know I was with him; however, my visit was not for him-it was for me. I had a lot to get off my chest, and I didn't have the luxury of speaking my words of frustration, sorrow, and joy to his face. If I was caught, I was sure Odin would banish me for purposefully disobeying a direct order. Therefore, I had to make sure I wasn't caught.

When I reached his cell, I gazed in at him. He sat with his back against one of the walls, placing himself as far away from the other inmates as possible. In the back corner of the room, he stretched his long and slender legs across the floor, crossed delicately at the ankles. In his lap laid a book that had been bound by hand. Upon further inspection, I recognized pages, the handwriting, the little notes at the bottom of each poem. It was the book of poems I had gifted to him on our first year celebrating our love. I had written him poems every day, and I compiled them all into the book he had in his lap. Upon realizing it, my eyes welled up with tears. Why did he have that? Of all the books he could have been reading, why did he chose that one?

As his fingers delicately caressed the pages, I lowered myself down onto the floor as close to the him as I could get. The cell wall did not burn until one made the mistake of touching it, and I was willing to test the boundaries that night. Looking over his shoulder, I noticed the poem he was on, the poem he had not moved from, his eyes continuing to scan the page over and over and over again, much like how I was with his letters and poems. When I recognized the poem, I leaned my head back against the rock wall and stared over at the beautiful face of the man I once loved...the man I would _always_ love. Loki.

*Loki's POV*

I felt her presence, the moment she walked down into the dungeons, but I could not see her. I smiled at her attempt at deception, but she should have known that it would not work on me, not entirely. The problem with trying to fool me was not the fact that I taught her the art of illusions or that she was not skilled with them-because she was-but it was for the simple fact that we were connected in a way that made it impossible for her to truly deceive me. Without drawing attention to the fact that I could feel her presence, I focused solely on breaking through the illusion. It was not an easy feat to accomplish-her powers being ones which I had grossly underestimated. She had grown far more powerful than I ever imagined she could be, and she grew exponentially between the time I fell to this moment right now.

Not wanting to call attention to the fact that I could now see the beautiful woman who sat beside me, I continued to scan over the pages of the book my mother had brought to me. I wanted so badly to reach out and touch her, and if it had not been for the cell wall, I wasn't sure if I would've been able to stop myself from doing just that. As my eyes scanned the pages for the hundredth time that evening, her soft voice broke through the silence in the room as she recited the poem she had once written for me.

_And if death should try to part me from you,_

_She will have no heart or love to claim,_

_For my heart is forever in your hands,_

_My life will never be the same._

_And if death should try to part you from me,_

_My love, I would take your place,_

_For death knows not of the hole you would leave,_

_I'd accept her cold embrace._

_But, darling, fear not, for I know not how,_

_I know not when or why,_

_All I know is we'll meet her together,_

_Our journey won't end with goodbye._

I scanned the lines as she recited them, feeling the emotion rising in my chest once more. I wished to cry, to scream, to hurt myself the way I hurt her. At the same time, I also had an urge to hurt her, the darkness still prevalent in my mind. It was like Thanos hadn't released his grasp entirely. The more I felt the need to hurt her, the more I wished to hurt myself. A small sniffle pulled me straight from the book, and I pulled the veil over her eyes before looking over at her. She studied the side of my face, but she would not know that I looked at her the way she looked at me, the way we both gazed at the stars. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and I realized why my heart ached as much as it did. It was the first time in hundreds of years that I'd seen her cry. She didn't cry when she was beaten and abused. She didn't cry when she talked about her absent parents. The last time I saw her cry was when she confessed her love to me for the first time. When I couldn't hold back my own emotion, she couldn't do so either. She cried for nothing, but here she was, crying in front of me _because_ of me, "no," I whispered, my heart shattering.

She sniffled and began speaking, wiping the tears from her cheeks as quickly as they came, "I know you, Loki. I know who you are better than anyone else does, probably better than I know myself. I know that your favorite color used to be blue when we were growing up because you loved the color of the sky. We would lay on the ground in the forest and stare up at the sky through the branches of the trees, and you'd tell me how beautiful it was. When we were still young, your favorite color depended on the color of my dress that day. Then, there was a day when everything changed. You looked at me differently, and suddenly, your favorite color was green...the color of my eyes. You began to dress in green, and you did it even more often when I noted that it was a good color on you. I know that reading is your second favorite pastime, but you don't love that nearly as much as counting the stars at night. I know that your favorite book is a play by Shakespeare-a man who has long been revered by the Midgardians-even though you hate to admit that they have any purpose at all. I know that you love to dance, especially when I would accompany you to the garden. You'd hold me close and sway back and forth with me, and for those moments, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. I felt beautiful and magical and...the world just felt right," she confessed.

After a long breath, she continued, "I know that when you're hurt, you push people away. It takes one to know one, though, Loki. I've pushed people away before because I was afraid to care too much. I've pushed people away because I was afraid to hurt them, that somehow my presence could cause them pain or put them in danger. With Hjalmar's death, I was reminded why I chose to lead a lonely life in the first place, why I tried to keep people at bay from the beginning. I've grown too invested, though. I've seen the connection I have with you and with Hjalmar, Sif, Ephinea, and Thor. I've come to realize-with your help-that loving others freely promises far better rewards than shutting people out for fear of rejection or being hurt. Of course, when the people you love leave, it hurts, but I would rather lose what I love than to never experience the beauty of love in the first place."

She reached out and pressing her hand against the cell wall, and I was reminded of the cell on Midgard, of my poor choices that led me here, of the pain after the fall. They were memories I would never let her see. I reached out and rested my hand against the cell wall on the opposite side of hers, imagining that the warmth I felt was merely the warmth of her hand. The wall would not burn unless I put pressure against it, so I left my hand against the wall, trying to reconnect with the love I threw away. She continued, her tears beginning to dry, "I guess that's why I'm here...because I don't want to lose you. I want to hold on for as long as possible...even if it kills me," she trembled, filled with passion and dread. It melted away as she disconnected her hand from the wall and leaned back against the wall, gazing at me still. She let out a disheartened chuckle, just like the one I heard on Midgard, and she shrugged her shoulders, "who knows? I might still be pretty drunk, but...I've always known there was something special about you...about _us_."

Just as she spoke, I saw the sorrow and grief conquer her again, "there was a point I was sure we'd spend the rest of our lives together, but...when you fell...when I lost you, I-" she trailed off, the tears overtaking her once more as she broke down. Part of me wished I had never broken through her illusion, that I remained oblivious to her presence because I would have been spared the view of her crumbling. I shook my head, desperate to stop her tears. Never had I seen her more beautiful, but I had also never seen a more heartbreaking sight in all my life. Tears fell from her eyes and twinkled...like stars falling from the night sky. It left me breathless and in a state of perpetual agony. She trembled, pulling her knees up to her chest to hold herself because my actions landed me in the cell that rendered me unable to hold her myself.

She finally managed to collect herself enough to speak through the waterfall of tears, "when I lost you, I lost myself, too. I lost every hope and every dream I ever had for us. I mourned you and wished for death because it would have been far easier than going on with my life without you. You took my heart with you when you left, and I have not felt peace since then. I couldn't save you, and I hate _myself _because you were the one thing in my life that was worth saving. I couldn't protect you, and I hate every moment that was wasted without you. I miss you so much, Loki. I've loved you all this time, and I feel like I'm loving a memory," she said, a lone tear streaming down my cheek as I pressed my hand even harder against the cell wall, feeling the burning sensation against my skin. I just wanted to touch her, to feel her once more. She continued, "I just want you to come back. I want this to feel like home again. I still dream of the life we dreamed of together, but I feel like you've forgotten, like I am remembering it all on my own. For the longest time, I believed you were dead. Even when I found you on Midgard, I believed you were gone, but...you still wear green, and it still suits you," she murmured with the faintest hint of a smile, closing her eyes before drifting off to sleep.

As one final tear streamed down my cheek, I rested my forehead against the cell wall, bringing my face as close to hers as possible, "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry," I murmured, wishing for one chance to hold her in my arms once more, but I would never be free. Even if I was given the opportunity to escape, I wasn't sure if I would take it because I knew the pain my presence brought her. I felt it as if it were my own. She was my weakness, and everyone knew it.

Even Thanos.

As she fell asleep, her illusion lifted, and the monsters and men within the dungeons finally saw her laying beside my cell. As the buzzing voices began to grow louder, I rose and walked over to the wall closest to them, annoyed that their antics could awaken the sleeping beauty, "I swear, if anyone wakes her up, I will break out of this cell just to rip the tongues from your throats. Do not tempt me," I growled through gritted teeth, the room falling silent once again. Realizing that I no longer needed to keep up the illusion, I freed her mind and laid on the floor next to her, situating myself as close to her as possible before closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep.

*Eva's POV*

_As soon as I felt the intrusion, I knew what he had done. I was aware that my illusion would be lifted once I fell asleep, but it was impossible for me to stay awake after all the crying I had done. I didn't know why I was surprised that he infiltrated my mind, especially when he would have so many questions, but it didn't mean I was happy about it. I whipped around to see him walk out from behind one of the trees, wearing the same shirt he had worn when the memory took place. I couldn't help but feel my heart skip a beat upon seeing him. It was like I was back in that beautiful moment, the last time I felt truly happy, a time before the fall and before my solitude, "you've gotten better at your illusions," he remarked, that devilish grin pulling at his lips._

_I closed my eyes, the soft breeze licking my skin as I let out a sigh. This was the only place I could feel at peace now-in my dreams. I didn't need Loki to ruin it with his sarcasm. This had once been our place, but I was sure he had forgotten that just as he had forgotten me, "get out of my head, Loki," I urged him as I rested my hands against the trunk of Life's Tree._

_He snickered, and I opened my eyes to gaze upon his pain-stricken face, but I knew it to be only a joke. He wasn't truly hurt by my apathy because he knew that I meant no harm by saying it. The smirk formed again as he closed the space between us, "__you__ were the one who snuck down to the dungeons and proceeded to fall asleep next to __my __cell-not before you rattled off quite the speech-but, nevertheless, you were the one intruding first," he noted, grinning at my clear shock when he mentioned my emotional monologue I gave to him._

"_You heard that?" I asked, shocked that he managed to fool me. I was usually so perceptive when it came to him, but I didn't know if my lack of awareness that night was due to my grief, the alcohol, or both. A small part of me worried that he heard my entire rambling speech, as it was a bit embarrassing, but a bigger part of me wanted him to have heard it. They were all the words I wanted to say to him but ones I couldn't bring myself to say to him._

"_Of course I did!" he murmured, closing all the remaining space between us. When he finally stood before me, I gazed up into his sparkling blue eyes-__my__ favorite color-and felt his warmth. For the first time in so long, I felt the warmth that radiated from his body, and it felt like it completely encased me, just like those arms had so many times before. His eyebrows raised as he felt a shift, too. I could tell that he felt the same thing I did, like a cinder that refuses to die away. It continues to burn and-if tended to-could reignite the fire once more. Looking into his eyes, I saw that the man I knew was still so present, but he was afraid to face himself, so he continued to hide behind a facade. He studied my expression for a long moment before continuing, "I felt your presence when you came to the dungeons. It just took some focusing, and I was able to break free of your illusion. You've gotten much better since the last time we trained, but...you forgot the biggest rule of them all: don't try to trick the trickster," he grinned, that childhood playfulness resurfacing._

"_Well, I __was __rather intoxicated, so I wasn't fully focused," I argued, defending my actions, "besides, you should've told me or at least stopped me from talking and embarrassing myself," I added, trying to suppress a smile but failing in the end. I didn't understand how he was able to elicit such reactions, but it was nothing new._

"_You needed to let it out. Who was I to stop you from doing that?" he asked, reaching out to grasp my hands in his powerful yet delicate ones. Every urge within me told me to pull away, to wake up before he tried to hurt me. I hadn't seen this tender and compassionate man in so long that it felt too good to be true. I wanted to push him away, but my heart won over in the end as I reached out to him and our fingers intertwined. I could feel him, and it wasn't in one of those "my memory is filling in the places where my senses can't" situations. I could __feel__ him. I could feel the warmth of his fingers, the gentle caress of his thumbs over the backs of my hands, the gentle squeeze whenever my fingers touched one of his sensitive spots-there had been one directly below his left thumb. When I gazed back up at him, I noticed that he still did __that__. Whenever I was looking at something else, he was too busy looking at me._

_When I met his blue eyes once more, I couldn't help the hint of a smile that played upon my lips, "why are you in my head?" I asked, wondering why he would push me away when I wanted to talk before but pursue me this time. My question was met with silence, but that was an answer in and of itself, "you try to hide your compassion, but I've always been able to see right through you, Loki. I've always seen you for who you truly are, and that's the man who I shared my life with."_

_He cleared his throat, pulling his hands away from mine as he stepped away and motioned at the forest around us, "is this where your dreams normally take place?" he asked, changing the subject as ungracefully as he used to._

_I smirked, rolling my eyes at his childishness. It was something I was used to. Of course, he was so much more than that on any given day-chivalrous, funny, mischievous in all the best ways, gentle, loving, compassionate-but I loved having even a piece of him show up. I gazed up at the tree, running my fingers along the trunk once more, "this was the last moment I felt truly happy, it took place right here. Everything felt right, so it's only fitting that I find myself here in my dreams now," I answered, feeling guilty that even my greatest gift hadn't taken place of this moment._

"_This feels like it was...so long ago. This __can't __be the last time you felt happy," he replied, shaking his head in disbelief. His eyebrows furrowed and tilted upward in the middle; he was sad. He was hurting for me._

_I shook my head, disagreeing with the statement. While it had been nearly two years prior, it felt like not much time had passed at all, "it doesn't feel that long ago to me," I confessed, "I come here every night. I replay that day in my mind whenever I feel lonely. It's a memory so fresh in my mind that it feels like just yesterday, and it's a memory so beautiful that it helped ease the pain of losing you," I murmured, my voice trailing off into nothing more than a whisper at the end._

_He walked around the tree, running his long and slender fingers along the trunk of it. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to recall the memory, but when I saw that he was left empty-handed, I frowned, feeling like my heart was simply a weight in my chest. He shook his head again, "my memory of this place is...clouded," he remarked, sorrow filling his eyes._

"_It's because of what they did to you," I growled, tears filling my eyes once more. He jumped at my sudden indignance and gazed at me with disbelief in his eyes. I could remember the turmoil he felt while on Midgard. He looked sick and scared. He looked like a beaten and abused animal, and I knew that the one who found him-Thanos-had warped him into something I didn't recognize. I could remember his sorrow and pain, his endless conflict. I could remember it all. Taking it all into consideration, it was no surprise that he couldn't remember the goodness he had before the fall, but I wanted him to, "I'll remind you," I stated, walking back over to him. No matter how many times he tried to change the subject, I always knew where to pick back up._

_He furrowed his eyebrows, "why?" he asked, confusion clear both on his face and in his voice._

_Even though he was visibly shaken by our sudden closeness once again, he couldn't help but react as he always had. He opened his arms and received me, my body molding together with his. We fit together perfectly, as if we were created to be held by each other for all of eternity. His arms wrapped around me as my hands came up to brush the stray pieces of hair from his beautiful face. He leaned into my touch, breathing in the air that sat between us as his eyes closed, "I'm doing it because it's a beautiful memory. Everyone deserves at least one, and you have so many," I reminded him before searching his mind to find it, bypassing the rubble that had been left there by Thanos. Then, I found it._

*Loki's POV*

_When I opened my eyes once more, I was no longer in the dream. Perhaps I was still within her mind, but she also managed to infiltrate mine at the same time. I had no idea, but when I opened my eyes, I saw her the way she was on that day. I saw her in that beautiful golden dress, which was her favorite color aside from blue. It flowed gently with the warm breeze and was complimented beautifully by the crown of flowers sitting delicately atop her flowing brown hair. I had made it for her while we sat beneath Life's Tree. She stood before me, skin glowing and impossibly more beautiful than the last time I had seen her. As my hand moved up to stroke her cheek, I realized I was unable to stop myself. I was just along for the ride at this point. The colors around me were so much more vibrant than I remembered them, and her presence made them even more intense._

_I smiled down at her, "tell me what I did to have you in my life?" I asked, stroking her cheek with the tips of my fingers as she leaned into my touch._

_She reached up and clasped mine, steadying it against her cheek before bringing it to her lips and kissing the open palm of my hand, "you loved me like no one else ever could, and I've loved you from the start," she answered, flashing me that stunning smile, the one that left me speechless, "how could I __not__ love you?" she asked, challenging my question._

_My right hand snaked around her waist as I pulled her closer to me, and her left arm draped over my right shoulder as she smiled in anticipation for what was to come. She grasped my left hand with her right one, and we began to sway back and forth with one another. We had shared so many nights just like this on Midgard during the past few centuries. Our love story spanned across all Nine Realms. Our bodies melted into one another, and I felt whole once more. I held the whole world in my arms as we danced, and I figured out my answer to her question, "you could love anyone else. Any man would be lucky to have you as his partner, and they would even __fight __to have you. I am merely confused as to why you chose me."_

_She raised her eyebrows in clear surprise, "do you think I chose to fall madly in love with you, Loki?" she asked, "I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I had no choice in the matter. I love you because I love you. I have no answer as to why or how. I love you because you are everything I've ever wanted. I love you because you're my most beautiful dream come true. I love you because my life would mean so little to me without you in it. I believe the universe had it planned out from the beginning of time, our lost souls finding each other. Never question how or why I love you for you are the most beautiful piece of my life," she murmured before leaning in to my ear, "sing to me," she requested._

"_What would you like to hear, my love?" I asked_

_She shrugged her shoulders, "pick something we've heard before. Oh!" she exclaimed, finally knowing exactly what she wanted, "sing that song from when we danced together in New York. We stayed until everyone went home, and you asked for the singer to play the song again. Can you sing that one?" she asked, her green eyes glimmering like the land in the spring._

_I chuckled, "was it when you wore that blue dress?" I asked, and she nodded her head, "the one you tore on our way out of the cinema?" I added._

_She hit my chest playfully with her left hand before returning it to my shoulder, "the only reason I wore that dress was because it matched your eyes, so forgive me for trying to be romantic like you," she laughed_

"_At least I'm romantic __and__ graceful," I teased, pulling her impossibly closer to me._

_She laughed even harder, "it was after the expo I begged you to take me to. We met that soldier-I cannot remember his name for the life of me. The two girls he showed up with had left for the night. He told you that he was shipping out the next day, so you offered to sit out a dance so that he could experience the same joy you had while dancing with me-I think that's how you put it. That was the moment I fell even more in love with you than I thought possible," she recollected, her eyes glazing over with fond memories._

_I pressed my lips to the top of her head, "I offered it because I figured that every man-human and God alike-should experience a joy like that at least once in their lives. He was going away to battle with little chance of coming back. He deserved a moment of peace just as you have brought to me before I have left," I stated, remembering the countless times she held me before I rode off to battle with Thor at my side. As she rested her head against my chest, I began singing the song of that night, "how much do I love you? I'll tell you no lie. How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky? How many times a day do I think of you? How many roses are sprinkles with dew? How far would I travel to be where you are? How far is the journey from here to a star? And if I ever lost you, how much would I cry? How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky?" I sang as we continued to sway back and forth together, our lips coming dangerously close to touching._

_I rested my forehead against hers, allowing my eyes to flutter closed as she had. She nuzzled her face against mine, our noses brushing against each other's. As we continued to dance, I broke the silence between us, believing this to be the most perfect moment. I didn't care that I had not yet spoken to my father. Instead, I acted on impulse, "do you remember the question I asked you some time ago?" I asked, my voice low and soft as to not disturb the delicate beauty surrounding us._

_I felt her smile as she remembered it clearly, "of course, I remember! How could I forget?" she asked, and when I felt her gaze, I opened my eyes and met it, "I also remember I told you then that my answer depended on whether or not you were brave enough to ask me...__outright__, and it still does," she added, batting those long and full eyelashes at me, innocence sparkling in a sea of emerald green._

"_And what if I was brave enough...right now?" I asked, my chest rising and falling faster than normal because of the adrenaline that rushed through me._

_She cocked one of her eyebrows at me, challenging me once again, which was something I had fallen madly in love with over the centuries we spent together, "are you?" she asked, her eyes searching mine for any hint of deception. She should have known by that point that she would find none. When she finally realized that I was not being light-hearted about it, her eyes widened and filled with tears._

_I took a long breath, preparing myself for what was about to come, "Eva, I-"_

_Before I could say anything else, she cut me off, stepping away from me and out of my grasp, "wait because...before you do this, I need to tell you something," she stated, her voice frantic and filled with so much bottled up emotion. As I tried to step closer to her, she held out a shaking hand, and I saw that her entire body trembled with it. I was concerned because of how quickly the mood between us shifted. She took another step away from me, lowering her eyes as if she was guilty of a crime, "you can yell at me, leave me, hurt me, whatever you need to do. I won't be upset with your decision, but...something...happened."_

_My mind raced as I tried to piece the situation together. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I could tell by her reaction that it wasn't good. My mind immediately shifted to my brother. He had always been in love with her, something every Asgardian was aware of. While she always silenced my insecurities by reminding me that she would love no one else the way she loved me, I couldn't help it when my mind wandered to him, "what happened?" I asked, tears filling my eyes at the thought that I was about to lose her, "did...did something happen with Thor?" I asked, trying to figure out what it was that caused her so much distress._

"_No!" she exclaimed, shaking her head, "you know I have no feelings for anyone else. it's nothing like __that__...but something just-"_

_Before she could continue, the loud voice of my father boomed from the edge of the forest, "Loki!" he called, ordering my immediate presence. As soon as I heard his voice, my mind began to feel like it was being torn apart, like his voice was bringing a distortion to my memory._

"_One moment, father!" I called back to him, begging for just one more moment with Eva before I had to leave to speak with him. I had begged for an audience with my father to discuss the plans I had already discussed with my mother, Aaldir, Thor, Hjalmar, and Ephinea. My father was the last person I needed to speak to, but he had put off our conversation until today and decided that it must be done at that very moment. I found her eyes once more, closing all the space between us and grasping her arms with mine, terrified of what she might tell me, "just tell me what it is, Eva," I pleaded._

"_LOKI!" my father hollered once more, irritation clear in his voice. I wanted to scream because of the pain in my mind._

_Her face, that smile, helped ease the pain I felt, though. She was suddenly much calmer than before, much less jittery. I furrowed my eyebrows before she began to speak, "go and speak with your father. I will talk about it with you about it tonight, I promise. Do not worry about what it could be, for I'm certain your theories will be wrong, and there's no need to drive yourself mad," she urged me, gesturing to the path that led out of the forest and to where my father would be waiting for me._

_I pressed my lips against hers, breathing her in. It was a short kiss, but it was filled with the same passion our kisses always had, "I love you," I whispered, resting my forehead against hers. If I had known at the time that it would have been our last kiss and the last time I told her I loved her, I would have forced myself to stay in that moment for the rest of my life. I never would have left the forest._

"_I love __you__," she replied, giving my hand the lightest squeeze before my father called my name once more._

I shot up from the floor, trying to catch my breath. Rage ripped through me as the memory brought back more than just the happiness I felt in that moment but the complete and utter despair I felt during the conversation with Odin. I could still feel the way he ripped my happiness away from me, pulling away my one chance at feeling fulfilled. I didn't need the throne or the title of King. I didn't need the recognition. I didn't even need to be known as a Prince of Asgard. All I needed was her, and just like he had taken everything else from me, he took her away, too. After that moment, after I saw the power he had over me, I decided that I needed to do whatever it took to strip him of that power and take it for myself.

I would rewrite my own story and decide my fate. I would not leave it in the hands of a man who cared not of my heart, but of the desires of my brother. He could have cast me out entirely, and that would have hurt far less than what transpired between us that day. Maybe he was right, though. Maybe Odin had a point to it all. Perhaps he knew that I would turn into this monster, and he was doing what needed to be done to protect the one thing worth saving. Eva had been blinded by her love for me from the beginning. She felt pity for me, and that was why she was so kind. How could someone so perfect love a monster?

Upon feeling my absence from her mind, Eva forced herself to wake up. She sat up on the floor and stood up to face me, "what happened?" she asked, her voice soft and comforting just like it had been in the dream, just like it had been for the years we spent together. It was the voice I fell asleep to so many nights, the voice I fell in love with.

"Leave," I murmured, turning my back on her once more, just like I had the night that memory took place. That memory took place on the day I left her, the day I pushed her away, the day I ruined everything good I ever had.

She sniffled, "Loki, don't do this again. _Please!_" she begged, and I heard the tears in her voice.

I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing that she could never love me the way she used to, not after all I had done, and I could never love her again, not knowing what I could do to her. If Thanos ever found me again, if he ever wanted to take my life from me, he would do it by taking her. I was angry at her for thinking that she could see any good in me at all. There was nothing left, and she was delusional for thinking that she could "bring me back." I whipped around to glare at her, "you're still looking for the man I was back then, back in that stupid forest!" I yelled, stepping toward the cell wall, "you're still searching for him, and that's why you can't let go. I let _you _go, though, and it was the best thing I ever did. You made me weak, fragile, scared. I was terrified of losing you. I know what power is now, and the thought of forfeiting all of that for a woman worth _nothing_ makes me _sick_," I hissed, causing her to wince.

"When you leave here today, I never want you to come back. Do yourself a favor and forget I ever existed. You think that you can make me remember a day before all of this-a day before I left you-and I'll just come running back to you? Do you think that you showing me that memory would make me fall in love with you again?" I asked, fury rising in my chest as she began to cower away from me, "you stupid, weak girl! I left you because the thought of wasting one more day of my life with you made me sick to my stomach. You are nothing. You come from nothing. You're a peasant whose parents didn't even want her, so what makes you think _anyone else_ would want you?" I asked, watching on with pleasure as she cried. A piece of my heart broke, but I couldn't stop myself from speaking. I didn't want to say these things, but it was like I was along for the ride again, "I should've killed you on Midgard when I had the chance!"

She wiped her tears away, pristine green eyes filling with immeasurable agony, "I wish you did."


	5. Thunder in the Rain

As I walked away from him, a part of me hoped to hear some kind of regret in his voice or anything at all, even. Instead, I heard nothing. He was silent. Maybe I had to do what everyone had been telling me to do all along: let him go. In my heart, I knew what would have been best for me. I knew that I would have been safer and filled with less grief if I let him go and went to Midgard to be with the Avengers and _her_. I knew that _she_ would undoubtedly fill the void in my heart that Loki left there, as she had been the one to fill it ever since he fell. Still, I felt responsible for him as well as the Nine Realms. I saw the damage he had done to the world we knew as our second home. His suit was black (the absence of light), gold (what had once been my favorite color), and green (his favorite color-the color of my eyes). He attacked the part of Midgard we had last been to together. It was a night of laughter and happiness for both of us and a memory that was now clouded with pain and darkness. He still used the daggers I had given to him before he left for a battle with Thor-a battle Thor talked the Allfather into keeping me out of, as I was still recovering from the last one.

A piece of me wondered if he had a reason. Maybe he truly didn't care for me anymore, maybe he lied to me all those years, but for what? What did he have to gain from an orphan girl? He was a God, and I was just another Asgardian. There was nothing extraordinary about me. If he wanted to manipulate someone for so long, why wouldn't he choose someone with more power? I had to believe that it was more than that. I had to believe that there was something else that I just wasn't seeing clearly. He was still in there. The man I knew was still holding on and fighting back this new version of himself. I didn't know what happened or what made him turn on me so quickly, but I had a few theories of my own. Perhaps he found out about my secret from Odin that day, but I still didn't even know how Odin would know in the first place. Maybe he fell out of love with me quicker than I had ever anticipated he could. I didn't understand, but it wasn't for me to try to figure out in the middle of the night when I was still sick from the ale that evening.

I made my way up to the training grounds, casting the illusion just long enough to make it past the guards. Once my eyes were dried, I dropped the illusion, finally visible again. I lifted a dulled sword from the rack and walked over to one of the training dummies before taking out every ounce of anger, frustration, and pain on it. I didn't need to build my skills with the sword anymore. However, I knew to practice regularly to stay nimble. Tonight, however, was simply to hit the dummy as hard as possible to make my muscles sore. I just wanted to make myself tired enough that I could fall asleep for the rest of my life, and if I couldn't achieve that, I at least wanted to be tired enough that when I laid down in bed, I could fall asleep immediately. I didn't want to think of his harsh words or the way he glared at me like it was my fault he fell in the first place. I didn't want to think of the mistakes I had made or the grief I felt over the loss of a man who meant so much to me.

Listening to the loud crack as my sword hit the dummy over and over again helped drown out the sorrow in my heart and the voices in my head that were even more cruel than Loki could ever even hope to be. As I growled, I thought of every moment in my life that I felt anger, every moment I felt alone, every moment I felt weak. I thought of the night he told me he hated me, the fall, when I saw him on Midgard, when I left _her_, when Tony Stark shed a tear for me, when she cried. There were so many moments, but they all came rushing back as the wall I had built up to keep them away finally broke down and crumbled into nothing. Suddenly, I heard a loud crack and opened my eyes to see that my last swing of the sword had been _too_ successful, as the blade lay broken on the ground.

"For a woman as peaceful as yourself, you sure like breaking swords when you're angry," Thor's voice rang out from behind me.

I whipped around, surprised by his presence. I hadn't heard him coming, and I certainly didn't feel him because of my clouded thoughts. As soon as I looked at him, my mind quieted once more. He was a peaceful soul with eyes as deep as the oceans. He leaned against one of the pillars with his arms crossed over his chest. His robes cascaded over his broad shoulders, and he wore a slight grin upon his lips. I shook my head, dropping the handle of the sword, which would be of no more use, "I apologize if I woke you," I murmured, attempting to walk past him. I was in no mood for speaking as my frustration had not been washed away completely.

He caught my arm before I could pass him, and as my chest continued to heave, he spoke, "you did not wake me, Lady Eva. I figured that after you visited Loki, you would come here," he said, hinting at the fact that he already knew what I had been up to that night. My mouth gaped open as I searched for any possible explanation other than the one he proposed. Before I could lie, he continued, "my brother has been playing tricks on me since we were children. Do you not think I can tell? Plus, I've known you since we were children, and I knew you would go down to see him at some point," he shrugged.

"I had to. You can be mad, you can tell the Allfather, you can do whatever you need to do, and I won't be upset. All I ask is that you continue fighting for him the way I have," I said, straightening my shoulders, "I will accept whatever punishment my King sees fit."

"Your King will never know," Thor replied in a hushed but stern voice, "I will not be speaking a word of this to my father. You did what needed to be done, something he doesn't believe is worth the time or energy. You've looked out for my brother since we were kids, and I would've been ignorant to believe that you would just stop because of what happened on Midgard. You still see the good in him, and I admire that because I still love him just as much as you do," he added, "how was he?"

I stepped back over to him, and he released my arm from his grasp. I motioned around the training grounds, "well, I'm out here, so it didn't go as well as I had anticipated. He's still hurting, and it continues to break my heart every time I see him. I can feel his pain just as I could before, but it's amplified.I just don't know if I can keep doing this to myself, Thor. I don't know if I can keep trying to save someone who doesn't want to be saved. It would kill me to abandon him like this. His mind is chaos. He needs a moment of clarity, of peace, but...maybe I can't give that to him," I answered the best way I could.

"Who _better _to show him that moment of clarity than you?" he asked, gazing down at me with eyes that shined like the sun on my darkest day. While every other love I felt paled in comparison to that which I shared with Loki, Thor brought something else into my life, something more beautiful than life itself. He reminded me that life was not about power or status, it was about living. He had a love for all living things that matched my own, and I loved him all the more for it. Thor never pushed me away, "you have done so much for him, Eva. You may not think you've done enough, but you've done more than everyone else put together. You have _sacrificed_ more than anyone else. All I know is that you need to take fate into your own hands sometimes. Maybe you find that you don't want to wait for cooperation from Loki or the Allfather. All I know is that you have allowed others to control your destiny for too long, and it's time for you to take your control back," he added, "and if you need to talk or cry or scream, you know that I'm always here."

My eyes filled up with tears, and I pushed them back, having cried more than enough over the situation. It felt like I couldn't stop since the fall. It was that moment that I made the promise to myself: I would be weak no longer. I would weep over my situation no longer. I could mourn for the man Loki once was or give him no other option other than to accept my help. As my chest continued to heave due to the unchecked frustration, I grabbed the back of Thor's neck and attacked his lips with my own. It was the only thing that felt right. It only lasted for a second before the shock forced him away from me, and he held me at a short distance. He cleared his throat, color filling his cheeks, "why did-what are you...we can't do this when you're still a bit drunk, Eva. I don't know if this is you or the ale from earlier, but...you aren't in the right state of mind for this right now," he noted, chuckling to lighten the mood.

"Does that really matter anymore?" I asked, closing the space between us once more, and he allowed me, "I want this. Do you want this?" I asked, gazing up into his eyes.

He sighed, "you _know_ I do, and you know I've wanted this for a long time. There's a reason I haven't done anything since we were young, though, Eva. You belong with Loki, and I don't want to get in the way of that. I love both of you too much to ruin what you have," he whispered, his arm snaking around my waist, telling a very different story than the one spilling from his lips.

"What do you think you would be ruining? The rubble of our love? Do you think you can shatter the heart we shared anymore? Could you kill a flower that was already dead?" I asked, realizing that, while I loved Loki more than life itself, he loved me no longer, "I will love your brother until the day I die, but he has hurt me so much, I think I deserve a moment of happiness. I deserve to remember the sweetness of love, which is something I have forgotten the taste of for so long. Remind me..._please_," I begged, grasping onto his robes in a desperate attempt to let him know that I would not hold anything against him.

He searched my eyes for any hesitation that could have been lingering there, but he found none. He found only loneliness and grief. Perhaps he felt sorry for me, or perhaps he was giving into urges that had lain dormant since our childhood. Either way, he kissed me. I threw my arms around his neck as he lifted me off the ground. I wrapped my legs around his waist, grunting lightly when he pressed me against the pillar he had been leaning on only moments ago. His lips were smoother than I had remembered them, and I could feel the areas he bit when he was nervous. As his left hand grasped my thigh, offering me an extra level of support aside from the pillar, his right hand steadied my face as he kissed me with more passion than I'd ever anticipated.

To my disapproval, his lips departed from mine, and he began to sprinkle kisses along my jaw and down to my neck, a place Loki always loved. As I squeezed my eyes shut, I forced the thought of him from my mind and focused on Thor. When he grazed his teeth against my neck, I arched my body into his, feeling a shiver run through me. As I arched into him, his arms wrapped around my body, squeezing me against him hard enough for me to feel every muscle and every crease even through the clothes. For the first time in such a long time, I felt small in someone's arms. Aaldir, Hjalmar, and Loki always made me feel that way, like I never needed to worry when they were around. However, _she_ had the opposite effect on me. I was the one to make _her_ feel small, the one to protect her. Ever since _her_, I had not felt like the small one until now.

With one arm still draped over his shoulder, balancing myself, I grabbed his face with my other hand and turned his head so that he was looking into my eyes. I saw joy and desire and _so much_ anticipation. I pressed my lips to his once more before pulling away and trailing kisses along his defined jaw and down to his neck. His hold on me tightened as I ran my lips along a sensitive spot. As I kissed him, he walked us down the hallway toward his chambers. He opened the doors with his back and shut them with his foot. When we were finally in the comfort of his room, he peeled me off of him and pushed me down onto the bed. I chewed on my bottom lip and laughed as his eyes scanned over my body.

Before I could react or speak, he joined me on the bed, nestling his body between my legs and proceeding to kiss me once more. As soon as I felt his warmth, Loki's face flashed behind my closed eyes. I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes, but it was like he could feel my hesitance. He pulled away from the kisses and pushed himself off of me in an attempt to figure out where he had gone wrong. I shook my head, trying to collect myself, but I was failing miserably. The promise I made to myself such a short time ago was already being broken as I began to cry, "I'm sorry, Thor. I'm sorry," I broke down, hiding my face in my hands. I felt so much guilt in that moment, so much anger at myself for being so stupid as to believe that I could just replace the love I received from Loki.

As soon as I began to cry, Thor crawled over to me and wrapped me up in his strong arms, "I know that you don't want to hear this right now, but as your friend, I need to say it," he stated as my body quivered and trembled in the arms of the man I wished I was meant to be with. If I was destined to be with Thor, my life would have been so much easier because he would have loved me from the very beginning until the very end. I wouldn't have felt this pain. Maybe I was just cursed, though. Maybe it was my fault that Loki was hurt the way he was. Maybe I was at the center of his pain. Before my mind could continue down the darkened trail any further, Thor spoke, "I love you, Eva. I have loved you since before I can remember, and I've never stopped loving you. For a long time, I wished that you chose me instead of Loki. I wished that you would find happiness with me, but I always knew that you two were meant for each other. Even though it kills me to say it, you and I don't belong together. You belong with Loki. You always have. And I can't let my love for you ruin your relationship anymore than it already has," he said, grief clear in his deep voice.

I shook my head, wiping my tears away as I found the strength to gaze up at him, "you didn't ruin our relationship, Thor. You had nothing to do with this," I murmured.

He sighed, "there's something I need to tell you."

*Thor's POV*

I had been more surprised that she stayed after I told her the story of that day, more surprised than I was that she didn't try to hit me. Instead, we shed tears together, and I sat with her until she fell asleep. After I told her what happened and apologized profusely, she lessened my guilt by being adamant about how it wasn't my fault. Still, I could see the pain the truth brought her. She was heartbroken, and she went to sleep that way. A piece of me wished I had kept it from her, but it had been two years of her questioning why Loki turned his back on her, and I knew the truth.

Unable to sleep, I found myself with Heimdall in the Bifrost. Though even looking at the Bifrost brought Eva a sense of misery, she spent much time in the very spot I was standing, and I knew that it was because the her fear and sadness over that fateful day paled in comparison to love she had for the Midgardians and..._her_. She asked about them often, and Heimdall would always fill her in on the health and well-being of each of them. She was always the most concerned about Tony, the two of them having a special connection that I could not understand. Steve also held a special place in her heart, which I could understand much more. He was a soldier and always put the needs of everyone else above his own. He didn't like to fight, but he did so that others could know peace. Eva did the same.

As I stood next to Heimdall, staring out at the stars, I felt his gaze shift over to me for a fraction of a second, "you told her," he noted, clearly having cast his gaze upon us when he felt her distress. The two of them were connected the same way her and I were connected. It paled in comparison to Loki's connection to her, but we could feel when something wasn't quite right.

I nodded my head, "I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't keep it from her any longer. She deserved to know the truth," I insisted, feeling guilty that I brought her to an even deeper level of grief but feeling hopeful that it would help her see the truth, that she had done nothing wrong, "she's become far more destructive since Hjalmar's death, and I sensed that she was spiraling. She's lost so much. She blames herself for Hjalmar's death, and she blames herself for Aaldir's sorrow. She blames herself for Loki's turn and believed it to have been her fault, like she could've stopped him from wreaking havoc on Midgard. She had every right to know the truth," I added

"You are not wrong," he stated, gazing back out at the stars, "she sacrificed so much for Loki, but I fear that she will now try even harder to free him, even if it means committing treason. She has no reason to show the Allfather anymore respect, for she now knows that he played a pivotal role in pushing your brother over the edge," he added, and I gazed over at his solemn expression. He lowered his grief-stricken eyes, "I fear for her safety if she tries to disobey the orders of the King."

"You have my word that I will do everything in my power to keep her from doing anything reckless, but she has never listened to me the way she listened to Hjalmar," I said, thinking of one of my dearest friends, "how is he?" I asked, hoping for some words of comfort about Hjalmar's new home in Valhalla.

Heimdall sighed, "I...cannot see him," he confessed, hesitant to speak the words to me. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused as to how the gatekeeper and the guardian of the Nine Realms could lose track of someone. Before I could ask any questions, he turned his haunting gaze upon me, "I have searched for him, hoping to regale Eva with some stories of him when she came; however, I have not found him. I have searched every realm, every planet, every moon. I have searched the entirety of Valhalla, and I even looked for him in the Realm of the Dead. Still, I have found nothing," he said, turning back to the stars, "I suggest keeping this between us for the time being. There is no need to put her through anymore pain right now," he stated, strongly.

I nodded my head, "but what if she comes to you and asks about him?"

He frowned, the mere thought of it bringing a sour taste to his mouth, "then I will be forced to break the heart of a princess."

*1 week later*

After another night spent watching over Eva and getting barely any sleep, I found myself standing beside my father, the man who was the cause of so much of her grief. She knew it now. She knew what he had done, and while I was surprised that she didn't hate me for the role I had to play in Loki's downfall, I was unsure of how generous she would be with my father. The two of us watched her as she practically danced around the training grounds with Sif and Ephinea. She hated fighting, but there was a side of her that came out when she fought that I had never seen before. She was skilled in battle the way no other man or woman could ever even hope to be. She blocked the attacks from each of the goddesses, and the two of them pulled no punches. Sif and Ephinea never went easy on Eva, so for Eva to hold her own against the Goddess of War and the Goddess of Strength, respectively, said so much about her skills.

As gracefully as she blocked what would have been a "finishing blow" from Ephinea, she began to take the offensive, swinging the dulled swords and moving like the ocean. I had gotten the chance to see her on the battlefield so many times throughout my life, and it always left me in awe. She had a plethora of her own weapons, many of which Aaldir had crafted for her or helped in the crafting process. He had given her two short swords that she used on occasion, and he also gave her the greatsword she used most of the time. Loki had gifted her a set of daggers, which were delicately crafted but stronger than anyone could anticipate due to their beauty. She danced around Sif and Ephinea, fighting both of them and successfully knocking them down and finishing them. After her success, she helped them back up onto their feet before starting again. I glanced over at my father, "she has grown far more skilled in the art of battle than even _you _could have anticipated," I smiled, gesturing to her.

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips underneath his beard, "if this is how you plan to sway my mind on the matters she has brought up time and again, it will not work," he reminded me.

I shrugged my shoulders, "it wasn't my intention, but it would've been nice," I stated, gazing upon the girl who was so strong but so broken, "she has a point, you know...about Loki," I murmured, wanting my words to be between us. I watched as his eyebrows raised in shock, which was understandable as I had always been fairly quiet on the matter, never explicitly taking anyone's side, "I don't believe you to be delusional, which is why I think you know-as well as she does-that Loki doesn't belong in the dungeons. He is far more dangerous around people who think like him. His mind was corrupted far more after he fell. Even if we could get him back to the way he was before, when he was only trying to take over the throne, instead of killing hundreds of innocent people on Midgard, it would be better than leaving him down there," I explained, hoping that he would listen to me with an open heart and open mind, unlike when he listened to Eva make the same case about Loki.

He gazed over at me, the icy blue eye as solemn as ever, "so, you are proposing the same thing? I release Loki into Eva's care, knowing that he is a weakness for her? Knowing that she could never do what needed to be done if it came to it?" he asked, "I simply implore you to think through every scenario," he added, sensing that he had offended me.

I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing that he was not completely sincere, "no, you are asking me to doubt her. You are asking me to trust her less, but you don't know her the way I do. You didn't see her on Midgard the way I saw her. You have no idea what she has done-_the sacrifices she has made_-for the good of the Nine Realms, for the good of Asgard. You don't see what she has given up, but I have," I growled under my breath, angry that he would try to plant the seed of doubt in my mind.

He shook his head, "I do not wish for you to doubt her, but I do wish for you to look at this from a place of objectivity. If you did, you would have the same doubts I do," he replied, a voice as calm as the breeze that morning.

"I _can_ look at this objectively, and that's why I believe she could take on this task. While we cannot go back and rewrite the past, she can turn the tides in our favor. If she were somehow able to turn Loki back to our side, think of what our strength could be with an ally like him! We would be much stronger with him as our ally than with him as our enemy," I exclaimed, gesturing out at her, "look at her, Father! Truly see her for what she is! She's no goddess, but she possesses the same skills as one. I don't think this is coincidence. I truly believe that she is meant to be much more than another Asgardian woman."

"You have much to learn about her, my son," he frowned, trying to force a smile and failing. I watched as the look in his eye became distant, like he was revisiting a memory that brought him pain. He tried to push it away, but it lingered there.

I shook my head, "I know all there is to know about her. I know her better than I know myself most of the time," I chuckled, gazing out at the woman I was in love with. For a long time, I fancied Ephinea and Sif. The two women were stronger than anyone gave them credit for, but I couldn't talk to them the same way I could talk to Eva. Eva was just...special. I knew every little thing about her, even though I was sure my brother knew far more, things I couldn't even imagine. I glanced back up at my father, "there's nothing I don't know," I assured him, thinking of the many secrets she had hidden from him, secrets he would never even know.

"There is _so much_ you don't know about her, so much that you _need _to know," he said, a sad smile spreading across his lips as he gazed out at her once more before stepping away from the railing and turning to face down the hallway, "walk with me and learn," he motioned, and I obeyed, falling in step with him and casting one final glance back at Eva. Once we were far enough away from the prying eyes and ears of everyone else, he began speaking, slowing his pace, "before you or I, before my father and his father before him, Asgard was created. Where once there had been nothing, we received a land of beauty, peace, and salvation. This was the place where the Asgardians could call home, a place that was more beautiful and rich with life than any other, and we took it all for granted," he explained.

"The land began to dry up. Where there had once been lush forests and beautiful mountains in the distance, it was barren. The Asgardians who lived her long ago took from the world but never thought to give back. They built this city upon her natural beauty, hiding the plentiful gifts she bore to them. The creeks and streams began to dry up. People believed that it was the world's way of grieving. She had always provided for them, always gave more of herself than they could possibly take, but they did not rejoice as their ancestors once did. They took the gift of life for granted, and they took this realm for granted. They did not thank the world for her blessings, and they did not live their lives the way we were meant to," he continued.

"The drought of the world continued. Food was more difficult to come by, and we were running out of fresh water. We began sending people to various realms to acquire what we needed and bring it back here. We had already stripped our world of all she had to offer, and we were doing the same with as many others as possible. Life was dwindling, and we were unsure about the future of Asgard," he said before letting out a long sigh. When I cast my eyes over to his face, I saw that he was reliving a memory that haunted him, and a sadness came over him that I hadn't seen before, "I had an older brother growing up, a man I've never spoken about, a man no one speaks of anymore," he confessed.

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering how it could be that an entire piece of Asgard's history was lost to me, "I forbid his name to be spoken, and there are not many who remember him, not the way I do," he frowned, "Cul was older, stronger, and much more capable than I was. He believed himself to be the rightful King of Asgard, and when my father-your grandfather-died, Cul took the throne for himself. My father had groomed me to take his place after he died, but my brothers and I allowed Cul to rule because of his promise to keep us as his close advisors, a promise he broke shortly after his coronation. He picked from a group of his loyal followers to be his advisors. It wasn't until he took the throne that we saw just how twisted he was, how his desire to rule festered into a madness we had never seen before."

As we walked into the throne room, he stopped and stared up at the golden throne for a long moment, "he ordered that we strip the other planets of their resources, and if we were met with hesitation, we were to take the resources by force. He wanted to make it clear that no one would stand in his way. A part of me wants to believe that he had good intentions, that he wanted to show the Nine Realms that Asgard was still a powerful seat. However, the more he took from other planets, the faster ours was dying, so my brothers and I did what needed to be done. We stopped him," he said, frowning at the memory. I could tell that it brought him so much pain even recalling it, so I couldn't imagine the pain he went through when he lived it so long ago, "there was a bloodbath in this throne room. My younger brothers fell that day along with so many others, and it came down to just Cul and I. He had sent his followers away to spare their lives because he knew I wouldn't kill him, that I would spare his life because of the ancient rules, rules he never followed but rules I couldn't break," he explained, glancing back over at me.

I furrowed my eyebrows, "but you broke them on that day?" I guessed, hoping it to be true.

He shook his head, a few strands of white hair falling out of place, "I couldn't, and it wasn't because of the ancient rules. I couldn't kill him because he was my brother, he wasn't the King of Asgard, not to me. I couldn't kill him because I could still remember running around the palace with him and getting in trouble for fooling around for too long when I should have been studying battle techniques. Instead, I banished him to the Realm of Death, hoping that Death would be able to do to him what I could not bring myself to do. It was where he belonged. He delivered so many souls to Death that day alone that he deserved to face them all once more," he said, glancing back over at the throne and narrowing his eyes, "but if I could go back with the knowledge I have now, I would have killed him when I had the chance because-"

Before he could explain his reasoning, a booming voice caused the entirety of Asgard to quake beneath our feet. It was the first time in my life I saw pure fear in my father's eyes, "Odin!"

*Eva's POV*

I stood in the courtyard that overlooked the Rainbow Bridge. Thor and Odin stood side-by-side in front of Sif, Ephinea, Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, and I. Behind us were members of Odin's kingsguard. While I had not wished to even wake up at all that week-let alone _see _the Allfather-I stood there out of the love I had for Asgard and my willingness to protect the people from any intruder, including the one that stood before us with his battleaxe strapped to his back. He stood the same height as Hjalmar once did, only slightly taller than the God of Thunder himself. The man before us all held himself like a King with his shoulder straightened and his head held high. He looked massive, like he was a force to be reckoned with. I had never met him, but he looked so oddly familiar to me, like a face I had seen only once before.

Dark brown hair that matched his short beard fell in waves nearly as long as mine, but he pulled the strands from his face and fastened them behind his head to see clearly. Even from our distance, I could see myself clearly in his piercing green eyes. Those eyes were filled with so much anger, so much hatred, but they were still so beautiful and pure..._a green that matched the colors of spring_. My breath hitched in my throat, and it felt like I was going to suffocate. I knew those eyes. I knew them from somewhere, and when he spoke, I began trembling with unchecked fear, "I am Ezra, son of Cul, and I have been sent here by my father, Cul, son of Bor, the rightful heir to the throne of Asgard. I have been instructed to deliver a message to the usurper, _your false king_," he spat out, grimacing at Odin. I was shocked by his words, unsure whether or not they were truthful. I had never heard of Odin having any brothers aside from Vili and Ve, and neither of them had any children of their own. It was clear by the looks on the faces of my comrades that I was not the only one who was confused by his claims.

Even if he did, Odin was our King, and for an outsider to show up in Asgard and insult the throne, it was unacceptable. While I was angry at Odin for justifiable reasons, I did not hate him, and I would still fight to protect Asgard and her people. As I made a motion to step forward, Ephinea put out her hand to hold me back. When I tried to pass her still, she grabbed my arm, making her movements as small and unnoticeable as possible to keep from gaining the attention of the the outsider. She gave my wrist a gentle squeeze, trying to remind me without words that this wasn't the right time. The small motions still pulled the attention of Ezra, and he glanced over at me in particular. His green eyes scanned over my body, and he smirked, "you're just itching to kill me, aren't you?" he asked before glancing back at Odin, "I see why you keep some of your best warriors chained up in the dungeons-like your _son_. It must be terrifying to have this one roaming around," he said, gesturing to me.

A fury erupted in my chest as he mentioned Loki. I gritted my teeth, my chest continuing to rise and fall at an alarming rate. Still, I remained silent, not wishing to escalate the situation. Odin spoke up, "did you come here to discuss the population of Asgard's dungeons, or do you have another motive?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow with a mischievous grin. He was pulling a page out of Loki's book, smiling in the face of danger. It was one of the things that made me love Loki even more, and it made me see Odin as so much more than I had been willing to in the past. In that moment, he became so much more three-dimensional than ever before. While he had forsaken Loki in the past and made his own mistakes, there was a piece of him that still loved the young trickster. When I saw him find his confidence the way Loki did, it made me think of the impact Loki's actions must've had on the Allfather. While I wished to speak with Odin about it, I knew that this was neither the time nor the place for such discussions.

Ezra cast one more glance over at me with a smirk that made me sick to my stomach, but he turned his attention back to Odin when I grimaced at him, "my father sent me with his demands. In his exile, he has been building allegiances with many people within the Nine Realms and beyond, and I can assure you that none of them are particularly fond of Asgard. They would be willing and able to tear Asgard apart at my father's command, but he is willing to go about this peacefully," Ezra stated in a menacing tone.

"And what does Cul want in return for his promise of peace?" Odin inquired.

Ezra chuckled, stepping forward, "he wants the throne back, the throne _you_ stole from him," he growled, pointing a finger at the Allfather, "he demands you hand over the throne of Asgard, and in return, you will be exiled to the Realm of Death just like you did to him. As I see it, you have two options: you can surrender and meet his demands, which will lead to a peaceful life for your people; or, you can resist, which will lead to our return and the subsequent bloodbath that will take place. Either way, we will take the throne of Asgard, but your decision could save thousands," Ezra said, offering Odin the ultimatum as if he was in any position to do that. He came to Asgard with no supporters behind him and threatened a King with the entire Asgardian army at his disposal.

Odin smiled at the man in front of him, and I saw the condescending undertones, causing me to smile as well. While I harbored some ill will toward him upon recent news, I could not bring myself to hate him or declare that he was a poor king. He held himself with strength and dignity, which was something that would not work in the strangers favor, "you forget the third option," he smirked, and Ezra cocked his head, clenching his fists, "it's where I let your armies come, and I defeat Cul just like I did all those years ago. I had no problem doing it then, and I won't fail now. You do not look for peace, but I pity you if you try to fight us. We know much about what must be sacrificed to maintain peace, and I do not wish for a war. However, I will do what needs to be done should your father attempt to wage a war against Asgard and her allies," he explained, "so, you can tell my brother that his proposition was met with resistance."

Ezra chuckled, stepping even closer to Odin. As soon as he was too close, the entire army behind us drew their weapons, but Odin raised a hand, wishing to entertain the boy for even longer. I listened to the warriors lower their weapons, but they did not put them back in the sheathe. I glanced down at Thor's hands that were balled up in fists. Ezra leaned in close to Odin and spoke, "well, I came here for your surrender, and I'm not about to leave empty-handed," he murmured before stepping away from the two of them and pointing at me. Once more, his eyes trailed along every piece of my body before locking eyes with me, "I'll take that one," he dictated, closing the space between the two of us.

Before he could stand directly in front of me, Ephinea stepped between the two of us, "try to take her, and I will rip you in half with my bare hands," she threatened, rage clear in her voice. She had always been like an older sister to me, so it didn't surprise me that she would react like that to someone who was threatening my safety.

Ezra glanced over at her but then back at me, "call off your dog, pet," he instructed, cocking his head to the side with a smile filled with false admiration.

I scowled at the nickname he decided to give me, and I felt a chill run down my spine at the thought that I _could_ be traded off to ensure peace, even if that peace would be short-lived. Odin's stunned silence was not helping ease my troubled thoughts, but I had to act with strength and grace just as I always tried to, just as my father taught me all my life. I raised my hand and rested it upon Ephinea's shoulder as I stepped out from behind her. She gazed over at me, horrified and flustered because of my actions. She had no idea what I was planning to do or why I was planning to do it, but I offered her a short glance that I hoped would set her mind at ease. When I stepped between her and Ezra, he didn't break eye contact with me. He smirked, one of his eyes twitching ever so slightly as he narrowed them at me.

He searched my eyes-for what, I didn't know-and when he didn't find what he was looking for, he grabbed my chin and brought his face impossibly closer to mine, "tell me, what is it you want, pet? Do you wish for acceptance? Strength? Power? A _real _family? A place where you belong?" he asked, "I'm sorry to break your heart, but you won't find any of that here, not with the current ruler. And, what about Loki? I'm sure you want him back, too, don't you?" he asked, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. How did Ezra know about Loki? How did he know about my deepest desires? As I stared up at him with wide eyes, terrified that he was able to pick me apart so easily. He raised his eyebrows, sympathy crossing over his face, "you have so much to learn, beautiful, and if you cooperate, we'll give you the answers you seek and the opportunity to live out the rest of your life with Loki," he murmured before grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling me even closer to him, "but should you fail, I will find your girl on Midgard and tear her apart in front of you just for fun!" he growled, my heart twisting and shattering into a million pieces before he pushed me down onto the ground.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Thor's loud voice boomed, almost like thunder itself. I could barely think of anything aside from Ezra's threat. I was paralyzed with fear at the very idea that enemies of Asgard knew about _her_, that they could use _her_ against me. Thor spoke as I tried to collect myself, "you are sorely mistaken if you think we'll just hand her over to you. Now, we have entertained this madness for long enough. If you try to take her, you will not live to see another sunrise," Thor promised, glancing down at me and nodding his head. I knew that I would have nothing to fear with Thor by my side. Even if Odin, for some reason, wanted to send me away, Thor would betray his father just to keep me safe.

Ezra chuckled again, laughing in the face of the God of Thunder, "I haven't seen a sunrise in nearly 300 years," he confessed, and a piece of my heart broke for him. I couldn't help but see small pieces of Loki in him, the anger, the pain, the hate. I had nothing to compare Ezra to, though. I knew the man Loki used to be, so I knew that pieces of him were still alive. Still, everyone could be saved, and that included the enemies of Asgard. Ezra continued, "no matter! I'm used to taking what I want by any means necessary, and I don't lose," he said before unsheathing his axe in one swift motion and swinging it down toward Thor.

In the split second it took Ezra to begin the attack, I jumped up to my feet and drew Hellbreaker, one of the many swords my father had helped forge for me. Right before his blade could graze my prince, I stepped in front of it, catching the handle of his battleaxe with the blade of my sword and stopping him from hurting Thor. His eyes widened in clear astonishment. I was sure someone like him didn't anticipate anything extraordinary, especially not from the person he nicknamed "pet" only moments prior. I pushed him away from the Thor and I, "you don't lose?" I asked, grinning up at the intruder, "well, neither do I!"


	6. Collateral Damage

"Looks like you lost," I dictated as I dragged him down the stairs to the dungeons. My entire body felt like it was on fire, but it didn't stop the shiver from running down my spine at the thought of what he was capable of. Ezra showed us something none of us could've expected. He was skilled in ways that we were unprepared for, ways I didn't even know could exist. I still trembled at the thought of my slain comrades-members of Odin's kingsguard-rising and fighting against us. The more people of ours Ezra killed, the more people he had fighting for him. The battle was unfair and horrific, but we still won even after members of the kingsguard forced Odin away from the situation. Ezra had surrendered after we had gotten him onto his knees. My sword had been pressed against his throat, and all I needed to do was give it one swift motion to kill him. I couldn't, though.

There was something that kept me from killing him, but I had no idea what it was. Maybe it was the familiarity in those green eyes or the endless knowledge he seemed to have about me. Still, my decision to keep him alive could be useful in the future of Asgard. He was another enemy who would be a prisoner in the dungeons, a man we could retrieve information from. He snickered at me, "you may have won, but what did it cost _you_?" he asked, glancing down at the wound on my abdomen.

I ignored his comment, feeling the pain radiating from the wound. During the battle, he had taken a swing at Ephinea, a blow I did my best to protect her from. I had pushed her back and tried to put as much distance between him and I as possible, but it wasn't enough. My sword blocked his axe, and while I struggled to disarm him, I was unaware of the dagger he pulled out until he buried it in my abdomen. The dagger cut right through my training armor-which had not been suitable for battle-and pierced into my flesh. I had not yet seen it, but a piece of me was convinced it was nothing while the rational part of myself was sure it was something much more than I was prepared to deal with. If I could still walk, I was fine.

Behind Ezra and I were the remaining members of the kingsguard who did not sustain significant injuries as well along with Ephinea, Sif, and the warriors three. Thor had taken to the throne room with his father to discuss what would come next. Everyone in the dungeons was silent when they saw the crowd of warriors that it took to secure the newest prisoner. They watched us in a stunned silence, including Loki. I avoided all eye contact with the God of Mischief, still hurt by his actions an entire week ago. While I wished for an empty cell anywhere else in the dungeons, the only free one was directly across from Loki's, which would undoubtedly cause me to worry much more than I should have. The cells were practically impenetrable, and even _if_ Ezra managed to break free of his cell, there would be no real reason for him to go after Loki.

As we stood in front of his cell, he turned to face me as I spoke, "this is gonna be your new home. I don't know where you came from or what you knew before this, but you won't be going back there anytime soon. You said you haven't seen a sunrise for more than 300 years?" I asked, and he nodded his head, a grin forming on his lips in anticipation for what I was about to say, "well, be prepared to wait another 300 because you aren't getting out of here for a long time," I growled, glaring up at him and his apathetic expression. It was as if he had no remorse at all for the lives he had taken, like the entire battle before this meant nothing to him. His reaction was sickening.

He cocked one of his thick eyebrows, "you have a fire within you that you try to ignore, pet, but you can't hide it from me," he replied before lunging forward and attacking my lips with his. It shocked me at first, but I leaned into it after a moment, realizing that I could use it to my advantage. Everyone around us who was there to ensure his safe transportation to his cell was left in shock, but they always knew that I had a plan. My lips molded together with his thick ones, and while I was disgusted to be kissing the man who just killed so many of my people, I knew that this was going to work out in my favor. While Ezra was distracted by the kiss, I eased one of my daggers from its sheath at my side and reached behind him before sinking it into his lower back.

He sucked in a sharp breath, disconnecting our lips. His face distorted in pain, and his chest rumbled as I pulled the dagger from his body, twisting it in the process. Once it was out, I dropped it on the ground behind him and reached into the small pouch on my belt to pull out one of the tracking devices I always carried with me. In one swift motion, I shoved two of my fingers into the wound to deposit the tracking device as deeply as possible. He grunted and twisted to break free of my grasp, but I would not release him. I released the tracking device once I was sure it was embedded deep enough that he could not feel it and dig it out on his own. When I finally removed my fingers, I rested my hand against his wound and focused all of my energy on transferring it over to myself. That was the one downfall of my healing power. I was unable to heal someone without transferring their wounds onto myself. While he was not worthy of my help, I couldn't leave the wound open for fear that he would just pull the device out. Now, it he wanted to take it out, he would have to cut himself open and dig for it.

As the wound transferred to myself, I gritted my teeth, but nothing could compare to the wound on my abdomen. It was like if one had been stabbed by Surtur himself, a scraped knee could never compare to it, so the pain was far more tolerable. Once I finished healing his wound, I glared up at him, "you're going to have a lot of time to think while you're down here, and that's _all_ you get to do. If you move, I'll know about it. If you speak, I'll know about it. If you have any thoughts about breaking out of your cell, I _will _know about it. I didn't kill you today because I believe in second chances. If you fail to cooperate or if you become a threat to anyone I know or love, I will not _hesitate _to kill you," I growled at him.

He nodded his head, "my execution would be against the Allfather's wishes. It's a beautiful sentiment-it truly is-but...tell me, pet, how will you protect the two people you love most when one is here and one is on Midgard?" he asked, referencing _her_ once more.

My eyes widened, and he smirked at the look of dread that was clear on my face. I saw my reflection in his eyes and saw a girl who had everything to lose, someone who had lost so much already. As my protective instincts kicked in, I grew furious that he even put their safety in question. I pulled my fist back and landed a hard punch against his cheek. When his head snapped to the side to accommodate the blow, I swiped his feet out from under him to bring him down to the ground. As he caught himself on his knees, I pulled out my other dagger and pressed it against his throat with one hand while I grabbed a fistful of his hair with the other. I squatted down to be at his level, "say it again," I growled.

He smirked, "and what if I did? What if I threatened them again?" he asked, challenging me, "would you kill me, an unarmed man on his knees? Would you take my life the same way your enemies took your friends life on Vanaheim? You and I both know that you don't have what it takes," he hissed, bringing up Hjalmar. My chest tightened, "the only way to save the ones you love so dearly is to accept your destiny, to accept what you're truly meant to be."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "and what is that?"

"A god," he answered with a smile as he leaned into my blade against his throat, "just like me."

I shook my head, my entire body trembling as anger and rage built up in my chest, "I am _nothing_ like you," I growled, furious that he would even try to compare the two of us. He fought and killed so many of my people and raised them back to be monsters. What was it for? I only fought when it needed to be done. I didn't seek out confrontation. I fought, and even killed, the few who put the lives of the many at stake, and it always sat with me. The eyes of my victims never left my mind, for I was aware that I had taken someone's loved one away from them. Ezra showed in the short time I knew him that he was nothing like that. He killed without remorse, and I saw no conflict in his eyes once it was over. We were _nothing_ alike.

He chuckled, "that's where you're wrong, pet. You and I are more alike than you know, and that's how _I_ know, without the shadow of a doubt, that you'll lose _both of them_ in time," he said, and my heart felt like it would fall through the floor. How did he know all of my deepest and darkest fears? That was always the one thing that scared me the most: losing the ones I loved. Of course, it was the fear of so many people, but he was able to pull up the two people I cared for more than anything else and use their safety against me, "it's in your nature. You'll always lose," he added.

My chest rose and fell as I struggled to find air. It felt like his threats were taking the air from my lungs, and I felt like I would suffocate. I saw how big a threat he was, but we managed to bring him down together. I didn't want to imagine what Cul's entire army could do. Everything had been thrown at us so quickly, as we had no knowledge of who Cul was or that Odin even had an older brother at all. Everything that happened that day just made me feel uncertain of everything. Still, I couldn't show Ezra that, "and what about you? You're the man who kneels before me with _my_ dagger against his throat. _You _lost," I hissed.

"You'll need me soon enough," he remarked, gesturing down to the stab wound on my abdomen that throbbed with a pain I never experienced before. The wound hurt badly enough that it felt like I would be sick from the pain. I had been stabbed before, and the wounds never felt quite like that. Perhaps, it had just been too long, and I forgot the sensation. I shook the thoughts from my mind and focused on him once more as he continued, "and the moment you come to me, begging for my help, is the moment when you'll finally realize that _you_ are the one who has lost," he sneered, his eyes cutting right through me. It was like he could see every weakness and insecurity I had.

"If you or _anyone else_ tries hurt the people I care for, you won't be able to find shelter from the storm I unleash. You _don't _want to make me an enemy," I threatened him.

He shook his head as if he was disappointed in me, and I furrowed my eyebrows. When his eyes finally met mine once more, he snickered to himself, "you speak like a warrior, but there is no true weight in your words. I know-as well as you do-that you would _never _pose a threat to the one thing you believe in more than anything else: Life. That's why I know you won't kill me. I'm not afraid of you," he stated, nonchalantly as he leaned into the blade, hard enough to draw blood.

I stood up, sheathing my dagger, before pulling him up onto his feet. He stood much taller than me, but I didn't feel small in that moment. Even though I was insecure about what would come next, I couldn't show my fears to the man who was threatening the lives of the people I loved. I needed to be strong, or he would take advantage of my weaknesses. I grabbed a fistfull of his hair and pulled his head down to mine, maintaining eye contact the entire time, "you aren't afraid of me," I hissed before leaning in to his ear, "but you should be," I whispered the line I had been told only once before. It had shaken me to the very core when it was said to me, but I felt powerful now that I was on the other end. My voice was low enough so that only he could hear me, and once I finished, I pulled away from him and shoved him into his cell. Ephinea activated the cell wall before he was even able to regain his balance. I couldn't help the smile as I watched him struggle to not fall onto his face, but the sharp pain in my abdomen cut that short.

Not wanting to waste anymore time on him, I turned to face the members of the Kingsguard. They were some of the most well-trained warriors Asgard had to offer, so much so that they were trusted with protecting the Allfather himself. The kingsguard lined the halls of the palace at all times of the day and night, and they stood guard over the dungeons as well. I picked up my blood-covered dagger that I had dropped on the floor moments prior and lowered it back into its sheath. I pointed over at Ezra but stayed focused on the warriors before me, "I want two guards posted outside his cell every second of every day. I _never _want him left unsupervised, and if he is, you're going to wish that you experienced the Allfather's wrath instead of mine," I threatened, feeling my unchecked fury rising further and further in my chest. I surprised myself at the harsh tone of my voice, but I didn't change it, "if he shows any signs of agitation, I want to know about it. If he takes one step out of line, I want to know about it. If he _breathes_ offbeat, I want to know about it. I want every detail of his existence to be monitored while he's down here. I want _nothing_ to go unnoticed. If he speaks out of line, I want to know what he said and when he said it. Do you understand?"

I saw the startled expression on every face of the men before me. I had always been known for my calm and collected nature, and the only time I ever broke away from that was when I was in battle. Even then, I had never been so ruthless, _especially _never with them. They all nodded in agreement to my orders, but one of the guards stepped forward, his eyes just as confused as the rest, "I mean you no offense when I ask this, but...what would you do about it, my lady?"

As I brushed past all of them, needing to take my place with Thor and Odin to discuss our next moves, I answered his question, "I'll kill him."

Before I could make it very far at all, Ezra yelled after me, "good luck, pet. I take pity on you for what is about to come," he shouted, that booming voice echoing throughout the silent dungeons. It was as if every prisoner stood completely still as I walked by-all but _one_. As I walked past Loki's cell, I stared straight ahead, refusing to even look his way, still hurt by what transpired between us a week prior. It broke my heart to ignore him that way, but I had to focus on the safety of the Nine Realms. A piece of it was also to protect him. If there was a chance I could convince Ezra that I no longer cared for Loki, that Loki wasn't a weakness of mine that he could exploit, I was going to take it. It was the best way to protect Loki at that point.

As I walked past his cell, he banged on the wall, yelling my name and trying to attract my attention, but I still didn't give in. I blinked away the tears in my eyes, my heart shattering as I had to look the other way once more. I did that before, and I couldn't believe I was doing it again. I was still hurt and angry at him for what he said when I visited him that night, but I could never stay mad at him for too long, not over trivial things like that. Even as I ascended the stairs, I could still hear his pained voice calling my name. My ears began ringing, and the world around me seemed unsteady. When I reached the last few stairs, the wound on my abdomen sent a piercing pain through my entire body, and I jolted forward to accommodate the sudden and intense pain. If Loki had seen me fall as I had in that moment, he would've laughed at me before falling down with me, not wanting me to feel isolation and embarrassment. I coughed, and the fleeting thoughts of my love were pushed to the side as I tasted the blood in my mouth. I swallowed it back just as the guards ran over to me to help me up, just like Loki would have done.

*Loki's POV*

I felt the immeasurable pain that she was experiencing, and I couldn't help but feel like there was something seriously wrong. That was one of the things that never stopped for me, no matter how deep my madness became. She was still there, an untouched and untainted beauty among the raging wildfire that was my mind. I could always feel her pain, her suffering, her joy, and her love. I could feel every emotion and every ounce of physical pain, which Thanos used to his advantage. While it killed me inside to know that she was hurting, it let me know that she was still alive, wherever she was. _This_ sensation was something new, though. I could barely stand due to the pain in my abdomen. Even when she had transferred his wound onto herself, it couldn't hold a candle to the pain I began experiencing no long before.

Everyone began filing out of the dungeons aside from the two guards Eva demanded always stand watch over the new prisoner. I had never seen Eva deal with anyone quite like that, but he must've made her feel something otherworldly to pull out that side of her. Watching it was exhilarating in a way that I never would've expected. I could feel the anger and pain coursing through her veins every moment she stood before him, but I could also feel her conflict. When he mentioned two people-one here and one on Midgard-I found myself trying to piece together who it could be. Perhaps he was speaking about Aaldir or Thor. I was certain she cared little for me after what I did the last time we saw each other. The unnamed person on Earth was what I tried to piece together first, though. Was it Tony Stark? I noticed that the two of them had quite the connection when I was around them on Midgard. What if it was the Soldier? The two of them shared similar beliefs, and he had protected her from near death quite a few times.

When another piercing pain erupted in my abdomen, I gritted my teeth and grunted, reaching for the tender spot. As I tried to breathe through the pain, I heard his laughter from the cell diagonal to mine, "you must be Loki!" he smiled, amused at my pain. I knew that madness well, well enough to know that it was not all his own. Someone had taken advantage of a weakness and used it against him. A small part of me felt empathy for him, but I couldn't help but think of how he must've hurt Eva. As I glared up at him, he cocked his head to the side, "I've heard a lot about you. I'm a pretty big fan because of what you did on Midgard-you know, attempting to kill everyone who wouldn't blindly follow your rule. I have to say that it was a bold move for the unloved son of a false king," he barked before taking a deep breath and calming his nerves, "I'm Ezra Culson, the new bane of Eva's existence. You've been replaced."

"What did you do to her?" I yelled, anxious to know what had transpired to bring about a pain like this. Before Ezra pointed out the wound on her abdomen, it was barely noticeable, especially since she showed little signs of discomfort while she was in the dungeons. Still, shortly before she came down to the dungeons, I had felt the intense pain, and I knew she had been stabbed. This sensation, however, was so different than before. When we were on Midgard, I...she had been stabbed. That was nothing like this. I grunted as I stood up straight, trying to ignore the burning sensation.

Ezra shook his head, a hint of guilt in his eyes that didn't seem completely genuine, "I didn't come here to fight-not today, anyway-but when Odin refused to my terms and your brother refused my offer to take Eva off your hands, I had no choice. She got in the way," he said, nonchalantly as he shrugged it off like it was nothing. Even the guards outside of his cell were disturbed. Everyone in Asgard knew Eva, and everyone knew that she was the embodiment of all that was good and light in this world. Ezra acted as if his action of attacking her was nothing serious, like attacking her wasn't like he was attacking the very fabric of life itself. During my stunned silence, he continued to speak, "let's just say that you're not the only one who has it out for Odin."

"I couldn't care less about _him_. You hurt _her_!" I snapped, slamming my fist against the cell wall and startling the guards and the other prisoners within the dungeons. Ezra would have a hard time in the dungeons because no matter how much the other prisoners hated Odin and Asgard, they could not bring themselves to even speak unkindly of Eva. The longer the prisoners stayed in the dungeons, the more they grew accustomed to her singing, and because Eva showed the planet so much love and kindness, everyone who resided here could feel her energy coursing through them. Her connection to the world and life was incredible. As my chest tightened, I glared at him, "you hurt her, and I'm going to kill you for that," I growled in a low voice.

He shrugged it off again, "collateral damage," he remarked, "it's nothing that can't be _undone_. When she gives in and leaves with me, which she _will_, I'll heal her, and we'll be on our way."

"She's not going _anywhere _with you!" I yelled once more, realizing that he was doing exactly what he wanted to do, and I was allowing it to happen. He was crawling right under my skin, and I couldn't stop it. It was like Thanos all over again. Ezra just _knew_ my weakness, and he was going to exploit it. He would try to break me, but I wouldn't lose Eva again, and that was what kept me from falling back into the comfort of my own darkness.

He chuckled, "I have a better claim to her even as an outsider, or did you forget?" he asked, and my eyes widened as it felt like my chest would completely cave in. He couldn't have been referencing _that_ moment, but it wouldn't surprise me with all that he knew about Eva and myself. A part of me wished to know where he acquired this information, but the part that took hold of me in that moment was still the nervous and insecure man I was before I fell from the Bifrost, before I pushed Eva out of my life, before I realized that I would never truly be my father's son. I could still remember Odin's words as if our conversation was happening that very moment:

"_A girl who could pass as a princess even without a prince would be better suited for Thor, and I will not entertain these childish games any longer!"_

It was the first moment in my life that I felt utterly hopeless. All that I had done up until that moment seemed like it was in vain. I had loved Eva, and she loved me. When she forced me to relive that memory in the dream, I couldn't help but associate it with the conversation that followed with my father. He had been the one to pull me from our beautiful moment, our _last_ beautiful moment. Our conversation was meant to open the doors for millions of other beautiful moments, but he slammed those doors in my face, telling me that I would never be worthy enough for Eva, that she was being saved for _Thor_. It was the beginning of my downfall, and she was the one who was hurt most from it.

While my chest heaved, I imagined ripping his tongue from his throat. I imagined slitting his throat open while he spoke of how Eva was nothing more than "collateral damage." I imagined his blood on my hands as I tore him apart for what he did to her and for what he tried to do to me. I knew that all he had to do was exploit my weakness, and he would be able to turn me against her. Something in me was broken, and he wanted to toy around with it, "speak one more word, and you'll wish for death when you see what I do to you," I threatened, narrowing my eyes at him and realizing just how familiar they looked, like I had seen them a thousand times before. Green...like the color of spring.

He chuckled, sitting on the floor and tucking his legs under himself. It seemed as if he would let my comment roll off his back, but that was the opposite of what he did. Instead, he brought up the one thing I cared about more than anything else. Eva. He grinned, madness in his eyes, "threaten me again, and you'll wish for death when you see what I do to _her_."

Without warning, my mind felt like it was being torn apart, like the broken edges were being chipped away at. As I fell to the floor in a massive pain radiating from the ghost wound on my abdomen and the sudden and intense pain in my own mind, I gritted my teeth and groaned loudly. I could remember her eyes that day, the day I hurt her more than I could ever forgive myself for. I had expected her to look at me like I was a monster, like I was her enemy. However, she didn't. She spoke my name with fear in her eyes and sorrow in her voice. It was my first moment of clarity in so long, but it was also my greatest moment of weakness and tragedy because I hurt the one thing I wished to protect: my friend, my princess, my love.

My Eva.


	7. Betrayal

***Eva's POV***

I had made it to the tower faster than Tony could, even in his suit. The moment he pieced together what Loki's plan was and where he would be, I left, the urgency of the situation shining a light on powers I never knew I had until that very moment. While I knew Tony would try to stop Dr. Selvig, I needed to take Loki home before he hurt anyone else and before anyone could hurt him. At the tower, I saw him. Tony had been right, even though I doubted him. I had known Loki all my life, and, while he had always wished for more recognition, he never would've hurt others to get it. When I reached the tower, he stood proudly gazing down at the city that he told himself he would control in a matter of time. I didn't know him, not anymore, but...the green in his suit. Maybe it was a force of habit or maybe he could remember.

Upon seeing me, he began closing the space between us. I stood next to the bar that didn't surprise me, seeing as how Tony was the one to build the tower, "you don't have to do this, Loki. You can come home with me," I murmured, my heart breaking in my chest as I searched for any remnants of the man I once knew.

"And what?" he asked, glaring at me, "you throw me into the dungeons with the rest of the filth? Odin executes me for what I've done here? No. I'll take over this planet and show him that I _am_ worthy, that I'm fit to rule," he growled.

I shook my head, tears springing to my eyes, "what are you doing here? What happened to you?" I asked, stepping closer to him, "this is not the man you once were. This is not the man I fell in love with. What brought you to this place of hatred and madness?"

"I GREW UP!" he yelled, his voice tearing through my heart. It reminded me of the day he left me behind, the day he told me he hated me. It was a conversation that left me cold and empty, and it had been the only time Loki refused to hear what I had to say. This brought back those memories, memories of a love that was torn apart. He continued, his harsh words and cold tone of his voice tearing right through me, "I realized that you were holding me back, that you were a weakness for me, so I cut you out. Now, you can't handle that people can move on with their lives without you, that they're stronger and better off without you. You were nothing more than a weight that was holding me down, and now I'm free of it. Do you see the strength I have now that I've rid myself of you? That's why everyone leaves you, Eva! That's why your parents left, why I left, and why everyone you've ever loved will leave you someday. You'll never understand that you're _nothing_. You're worthless, and the sooner people cut you out of their lives, the better off they will be, the stronger they will become," he growled, words of hatred and anger from the lips that had once kissed me with the tenderest love one could not even imagine.

I shook my head, choking back my tears, "this isn't strength, Loki. This is fear," I claimed, stepping closer to him and refusing to allow him the opportunity to pull away again. It was my fault he fell in the first place. If I tried harder to keep him with me, if I told him the secret I kept, he would've stayed...maybe. As I searched his eyes that matched the sky, I saw the conflict building up within him. A smile formed on my lips, "even after all this time, I can still see right through you," I murmured, reaching out and resting my hand against his cheek, finally feeling him after so long. As I closed my eyes, I could see it all. I could see every moment he felt helpless and alone. Everything that happened between the fall and this moment played before my eyes. I saw the mad titan, the chitauri, his abuse. I saw everything he tried to hide under a facade of confidence and rage. When I opened my eyes, I caught his once more to see the tears he tried desperately to hold back.

"Go back to Asgard, and I'll spare your life," he promised, a stray tear falling down his cheek.

I wiped it away just as quickly as it came. He trembled beneath my touch as I caressed his cheek, closing all space between us, "I've never left you, and I won't start now," I insisted, making it very clear through my words and actions that I would never walk away from him, not like he did to me. I shook my head, not understanding why he wouldn't give up this toxic dream of ruling over the people of Midgard. This wasn't his destiny.

He sighed, his eyes finally finding mine again. The man I loved, the one I saw glimpses of in his eyes, was gone, and the insanity took over once more. His pain was heightened for me suddenly. We always had a soul connection, and whenever he was hurting, I was hurting. Even when he was gone, I felt his pain. Now, every piece of it was heightened, and I tried to find reason in the fact that it was probably the proximity after being apart for so long. His sudden descent back into the darkness caused my heart to flip, "it's a terrible shame to waste such a pretty face just to prove a point, but you've made your decision," he growled as I heard his fists tighten around the daggers I had gifted to him so long ago.

I leapt away from him just as he took a swing. With every attack he threw my way, I blocked him and knocked him back, but I never took the offensive, not once. I refused to hurt him, not when the man I loved was still in there somewhere. He was quicker than I remembered. His attacks were faster than they were before the fall, and he was quicker on his feet. Every time I tried to block him, it was like he was already 10 steps ahead of me and implementing his next plan of attack. It was exhausting. He managed to get a few hits in on me, the blades on the daggers being some of the sharpest in all the Nine Realms. I made sure they were made from the very best material, and I was slightly regretting that decision in that moment.

With one wrong move, I was left unguarded, and he took advantage of that simple mistake. He grabbed my throat and slammed my body against the concrete wall hard enough to crack it, but I knew it wasn't done with all of his strength. Many had confused Loki's slender frame with weakness, but he was stronger than anyone gave him credit for. What little he lacked in brute strength, he made up for with his incredible sorcery. While the hand that once held my throat trailed up my jaw and cupped my cheek, he used his other hand to press his dagger against my throat. It was sharp enough that it began to slice through layers of skin without him even needing to apply a firm pressure to it. The pain was nothing compared to the pain in my heart, though, the pain that came with the realization that he could be gone forever.

My eyes met his, a raging fire of hatred burning behind those blue eyes that once brought me so much comfort. I was wary of speaking at all, for fear that he would proceed with what he was threatening to do with the dagger pressed to my throat. I knew that if he went through with it, it he killed me, Thor wouldn't be able to hold himself together. He would go into a blind rage that would leave Loki nothing more than a memory. Still, I trusted my heart and spoke, "I know you're still in there, that you don't want this. I don't know what happened on Asgard, but this isn't you...it has _never_ been you," I stressed, knowing that he was famous for his mischievous ways, but it was never anything that caused true pain and despair. When we were younger, Loki refused to hurt anything and anyone...even if they hurt him.

The God of Mischief was born out of pain and a desperation to be accepted. He pulled pranks and had his sibling rivalry when it came to Thor. Still, it was never hatred. Loki couldn't even bring himself to hate the people who hurt him, who targeted him and ridiculed him for things he couldn't change. He was left beaten, bruised, scarred, and afraid. However, he refused to do to others what had been done to him. When my stance on the "Loki situation" left everyone on the Helicarrier confused, it was because they didn't know who he was before this. Thor did. I did. They trusted us to lead them in the proper direction, and I hoped that he would not prove us wrong. We knew that this had to be something bigger than Loki that was causing this, something not even he could control.

As he pressed the dagger against my throat even harder, I hissed at the sensation of the blade cutting through my skin. I felt the wetness and knew that he managed to draw blood. Still, I remained just as calm as always and continued to search his eyes, looking for any sign of weakness, any sign that the man I loved was still fighting to come out. If I could break through the exterior, I would find him again, but I didn't know how to break him without hurting him. Suddenly, I remembered the very first time he told me he loved me, how he poured his heart out to me. I smiled, "do you remember when you told me you loved me for the very first time?" I asked, the fond memory never failing to lift my spirits, no matter how alone I felt. His eyes flickered for only a moment, but I knew that I would need to press on, no matter how much it killed me to see it tear him apart. In the long run, it would help him.

I chuckled, "it was centuries ago, but I can still remember it like it happened a moment ago. You wrote me that letter, the one that made me cry when I read it that night when I got home. I never told you that, though. I've read it so many times that I can recite every line," I remarked, watching as his face twisted in pain as he began to remember.

"Stop," he growled.

I shook my head, "my dearest Eva, my love...my life. I write you not because I don't think I could say these words aloud but because I am afraid that I will be rendered speechless the moment I look into your eyes. I am afraid I would forget the words in my heart. I am writing this letter as you sleep. You have not yet realized that I've left the bed, but it's not long before you lift your head off the pillows and beckon for me to join you once more-"

"Stop!" Loki demanded once more, gritting his teeth.

"I have been desperately trying to piece together the right words, the right way to tell you what I feel, but it's never enough. I could never tell you just how much you mean to me for you are the very air I breathe, the star I follow when I am lost, the light in a world of nothing but darkness. You are everything I have ever needed and more, and I do not know what I have done to deserve a woman like you in my life. You are my greatest gift, Eva, my most wonderful dream, my unearned reward. I am in awe every single time I gaze upon you, as if a goddess was sent to this world just for me. You have lifted me up from the ground when I've given up. You have shielded me when I have begged for the sword. You have shown me love...when I have been unable to love myself," I continued, tears welling up in my eyes as I remembered the beautiful letter.

"STOP!" he yelled, his voice cracking as he forced the dagger harder against my throat.

I grunted as the blood trickled down my neck, "I wouldn't be here without you. I would've given in long ago, but you have shown me that life is more beautiful than I could've possibly imagined when I'm spending it with the woman I love. That's you, Eva. I love you. I love you more than I've ever hated myself. I don't deserve you, but every piece of me belongs to you. I promise to love you until the end of time itself, Eva. I'll never leave you...I'll never forsake you. You are the very best part of every day, and I promise that from this day until my last day, I will fight for you...for us," I finished, my bottom lip quivering as I fought back the tears, "you can try to convince me all you want that this is who you are now, Loki, but I know who you are. I know you better than you think I-"

"ENOUGH!" he boomed, his voice shaking the room around us.

I shook my head again, this time moving away from the wall and pressing my neck into his dagger, "I don't know exactly what happened to you after you fell, but what I do know is that we're going to leave here together. You and I are going to walk out of here, and we're going back to Asgard with Thor. We can figure out what the next steps are once we're there, but I will _not_ allow you to stay here. I refuse to let you die, either...we're supposed to do that together, and I'm not ready yet," I murmured, "you can come home with me, and we can have the life we always dreamed of. We can get married and-"

He cut me off when he pressed me back against the wall with enough force to crack it even more. He leaned closer, his face so close to mine that I could feel his warm breath against my face, "if I slit your throat, that should be enough to shut you up!" he growled, my words of love driving him to a place of dismay.

I nodded my head, knowing that if he were to do it, I wanted my last words to him to be ones filled with truth and purity, words I said often but not with a light heart, "I love you...Loki," I murmured, hoping that if he decided to end my life, that it wouldn't be long before I saw him again. While I didn't want to die, knowing that I still had responsibilities and knowing that I didn't want to leave him, I couldn't fight him anymore. The only way he would stop was if I hurt him, and I wouldn't.

With those words, however, I felt the absence of the blade against my throat. I furrowed my eyebrows as he dropped the dagger to the floor, and the man I loved for centuries finally emerged once more. I gasped my breath catching in my throat. My eyes flickered between his, and I couldn't hold back. Instead, I threw myself into his arms, holding onto him as if he were my last breath of life, as if holding him could keep my entire world from falling apart. While I was so angry with him for what he had done, for what he chose to do while on Asgard that led us to this moment, I still loved him, and he still deserved love. Taking him into my warm embrace was one of the many ways I could _show_ him that, and I knew by his sudden shock that he hadn't been held since the day he broke my heart.

In that moment, when he allowed me to hold him, I knew that I would be able to bring him back, that I wouldn't be without him for much longer. It would be a long journey, one that wouldn't be easy, but I was prepared to be by his side every step of the way just as I always had been. When I held him, it was as if our souls intertwined once more. I felt every ounce of pain he had been feeling for over a year come flooding into my body all at once. For the first time in my life, I felt true and unbridled hatred, and it terrified me. I didn't want to avenge Loki by killing Thanos, I wanted to hurt Thanos in the slowest and most painful ways one could imagine. It was a new emotion, and I buried it almost as soon as it surfaced just as I buried my face into his strong chest, "I'm not afraid of you, Loki," I breathed out before taking in the scent of him. He still smelled of the breeze when it rolled through the forest, and I smiled fondly.

He shifted slightly, one of his arms beginning to snake around my waist, and I wondered if he would hold me the same way as he used to. I wondered if I would feel the same warmth when so much had happened between the last time and right now. I wondered if he would be able to sense the changes in me, "you're not afraid of me," he murmured, "but you should be," he warned as I felt my breath being taken away, a sharp pain in my lower back. The warmth-that familiar sensation-spread like a wildfire from where he had sunk his dagger deep into my body. As he pulled it out, I gasped for breath, my heart shattering as I thought of how stupid I had been to truly believe it would've been that easy, to truly believe that I could pull him back after all that happened between us. I was stupid for thinking I could save him when I had failed him before. All I wanted was a happy ending, but I should've known that happy endings weren't meant for people like me.

As I gripped onto him, he sunk the dagger into my side, twisting it with disgust on his face. When he finally pulled the blade from my weakened body, he stepped away and pushed me down onto the cold concrete floor. My body had grown weaker and weaker after he fell from the Bifrost, and I had been advised over and over not to leave Asgard. My father, the man who believed in me more than anyone else, even pleaded with me not to leave, but he knew that it was futile once I heard that Loki was alive. I couldn't leave Loki's safety in the hands of anyone else, not even Thor, the man I trusted more than almost anyone else, the man who was like a brother to me.

Now, here I was on the floor, beaten, bleeding, and my body worked against me every step of the way. For my entire life, I had a purpose to fight. I had a reason to stay, and that reason was always him. The thought of losing him, the hopeless feeling that filled my chest, made it more and more difficult for my body to fix itself. It was giving up...just like I was. I didn't want to fight anymore. While I wanted to fight for _her_, I knew that she would've been better off without me, safer without me, _happier _without me. I wanted to fight for Loki, but that was like fighting for a memory. That was all he would be, just a beautiful memory. I had nothing left, no one who could benefit from my presence. Loki was the only one I ever thought I could help. He made me feel important in his life, but that all ended more than a year prior.

I struggled to pull myself up into a seated position, but once I managed to sit up, I leaned against the concrete wall, holding onto the wound on my side. A piece of me wanted to stop the bleeding and wish for another day, another chance to fight for him, and another piece of me had the desire to tear into the wound so that I would bleed out as fast as possible, no longer needing to feel the jagged edges of my heart cutting though my soul. I had fought for my entire life. I fought Odin's wars for him. I fought the children who tried to abuse Loki. I fought to be the very best warrior Asgard had ever seen. I fought to lead Odin's armies into battle. I fought for everything I ever got. I fought for love. After Loki fell, I fought for _her_. I was tired. I spent my life fighting, and the thought of rest was more appealing than ever before.

As I struggled for every breath, I gazed up at him. He picked up the scepter once more and walked over to the window, gazing out at the city before him. It was so unlike him. Normally, when I was hurt, he would sit with me and beg me to stay with him, beg me to be okay, to fight. Now, he couldn't care less if I died or not. I coughed, tasting the blood on my tongue, "I forgive you for this, Loki," I choked out, catching his attention, those blue eyes finally landing on me once more. I winced in pain as I breathed, "you may not feel guilty for it now, but I know you well enough to know that the man I loved _will _come back, and he'll feel so much guilt for this. When you feel that, know that I've forgiven you in advance...just as I always have. I love you, Loki, and I'm sorry my love wasn't strong enough to save you. I wish I could've kept you safe with me, but I failed you," I murmured, my breath becoming more and more labored as I tried to speak.

He grabbed a fistful of his own hair, "get out of my head!" he growled, anger seeping from every inch of his body.

I chuckled, "it's safe to say...that I'm the luckiest girl in the Nine Realms. You loved me...and I loved you...and that was all that mattered. We had each other," I whispered through labored breaths as my voice and body grew weaker and weaker. I tried to fight it, but I had already fought so much for a life that was unforgiving and a love that was lost. As I felt the brush of Death's fingertips, I struggled to stay, not ready to leave him or _her_. The harder my heart tried to fight to stay alive, the more it began to bust at the seams from where I had sewn it back together time and time again. As the darkness began to overcome me, I smiled, knowing that this would be the first time I could rest. I could fight her no longer, and before I gave in, I spoke my final words to him, "I love you more."

Then the darkness swallowed me, but it wasn't for long. Something in me wouldn't let me leave. Perhaps it was my love for Loki that still lingered, but I was convinced it was my love for _her_ and my need to protect her. Just when I thought my pain was over, I faded in and out of conscious. I saw Tony, his worried expression when he saw me, but I waved him away, not wanting him to focus on me. I saw Thor, the man who refused to hold back against Loki once he saw what he had done. If I could have, I would've begged him to stop, to just take Loki and bring him back to Asgard. I saw Bruce or...the Hulk pummel Loki into the ground. Even as my body weakened, my heart refused to die.

The next time I retreated from the darkness, Loki was pulling himself across the rubble and crawling over to me, his body beaten and nearly broken by the wrath of the Hulk. He winced and grunted as every movement made it feel like his bones were snapping. Still, he didn't stop until he made it over to me, resting his head in my lap. I ran my fingers through his black hair, thinking of how similar this was when we were still on Asgard, when the world had not touched him, when I was able to protect him. We would sit beneath Life's Tree, and he would rest his head in my lap. He would read a book to me as I played with his hair, or he would simply fall asleep there. I would lean my head back against the strong trunk of the tree, and I would think of what our future would be.

I thought of what our wedding would look like, if it would be made into a spectacle, or if it would be an intimate occasion. I wondered what our children would look like and what we would name them. There were times I asked him aloud what he thought about those topics, what he thought about having children, and he always danced around his answer. I knew why. He didn't think he deserved a child, the love a child could bring, the warmth of a true family. I rarely received a response from him when I spoke of our future children, but he had brought up our future wedding many times. He would tell me of dreams he had about it, how he pictured me. When I pressed him for what he wanted, all he told me was that he wanted to marry me. I knew that he didn't care about the guests, the dress, or my hair. He didn't care if I just rolled out of bed. He just wanted to marry me, and I just wanted to marry him. It never got further than conversations, though. We weren't married. Our fairytale didn't come true.

As I thought of times gone by, I heard a faint sniffle. He grunted as he pushed himself up to sit next to me. His hand found mine, and our fingers intertwined. Our hands molded together perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle that fit just right. As I gazed over at him with half-lidded eyes, I saw the tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He didn't look ashamed of the tears-he _never_ was when he cried in front of me. The only shame was for what he had done, and I felt it. As he gripped my hand as tightly as he could, he spoke through the tears, his voice trembling and breaking, "and if death should try to part you from me, my love, I would take your place; for death knows not of the hole you would leave. I'd accept her cold embrace," he murmured, reciting a piece of the poem I had written for him so long ago. As he spoke, the tears fell faster. I reached over to him, wiping them away with the hand I had used to hold onto the wound.

In trying to wipe the tears away, I smeared my own blood onto his face. I hadn't anticipated it to be so much, and I gasped as I tried to wipe the blood away. He shook his head, reaching for my hand to stop me from fretting about it. When he finally grabbed my hand, wet with fresh blood, he noticed just how much of it there was. His blue eyes widened as he stared down at the small puddle that had collected beneath me, one he paid no mind to when he crawled over to me. He shook his head, "no, I didn't mean...don't leave me," he panicked as I rested my head against the concrete wall, wishing for just one last moment of peace. All I wanted was to share my final moments with the man I loved, the man who made every moment of my life a moment worth remembering. As I choked on my blood, trying to swallow it back, he continued to panic, "don't go, Eva. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he cried, tears streaming freely down his face. He twisted to gaze at me, his pain fading when he saw the true extent of my injuries. He became hysterical, "I never meant for this to happen. Just stay with me," he begged, sobs causing his body to tremble violently.

I smiled up at him, running my bloodied fingers through his black hair, "Loki, I promised you centuries ago that nothing...not even death itself could part me from you," I murmured, gazing into those eyes that were suddenly crystal clear. This was what it took to bring him back. This was what it took to bring the man I loved to the surface. As I finally realized that I had won, that I defeated his darkness for the time being without hurting him, that I could look forward to a bright future, my body began to heal, slowly but surely. He brought his face closer to mine, close enough that I could feel his breath cascading across my face. He rested his forehead against mine, and I wiped his tears away as they came, "I've never left you, Loki...and I won't start now."


	8. Falling

The guards who helped me up off the stairs had sworn not to speak a single word of what happened, and I said nothing to Thor and Odin as we spoke of plans for the coming war. Odin was as vague as he could possibly be about this new adversary, Cul. All he told me was that it was his older brother whom he had banished long ago. He said nothing more and nothing less on the topic. I could tell that Thor wanted to say more on the situation, but he stayed stoic and silent as we spoke. As usual, we planned to run more in-depth training exercises, increase the sheer number of the Kingsguard, and keep everyone on alert. Against Thor's advice, the Allfather decided to remain on the defensive instead of attacking, which I felt was a mistake.

If we rallied Asgard's warriors, we could confront Cul without giving him time to prepare. Remaining on the defensive left us open for a surprise attack at any time of the day or night. I knew that-strategically-it would be foolish of Cul to launch his attack so soon after sending Ezra to negotiate. From the standpoint of a warrior, it didn't make sense to attack when you knew your opponent would be preparing for your arrival. It made more sense to attack once your opponent began to let their guard down, when they began to feel comfortable, when they were no longer looking over their shoulder. If we were to attack _him_, it would be completely unexpected. He would be left scrambling, and _we_ would have the upperhand. Still, none of our attempted counsel could change Odin's mind.

Discouraged by the lack of understanding and compromise, I found myself in the Bifrost once more with Heimdall. He remained on the outskirts of Asgard, and I was _always_ an outsider to begin with. Odin would never trust me. In my state of intense emotion, I felt like he would sooner trust his life to Ezra than trust me to look after a rock. I didn't know what I had done wrong. All the years of training and battle, blood and loss, anger and fear-for what? What had I worked so long to accomplish? I didn't want to be a warrior, but I did it because I was good at it, and I wanted to do whatever possible to preserve as much life as I could. It was something Odin clearly didn't see.

Heimdall sighed, knowing the predicament I was in. He glanced down at me, "you're hurt," he noted, his ember eyes flickering down to my abdomen.

I shrugged it off, the throbbing pain becoming like background noise, "I cleaned it and bandaged it up. I'll be fine. It's nothing I haven't handled before," I replied, reminding him of the many times I'd been in situations far worse. There had been battles I was a part of where I wouldn't even be able to walk to the infirmary, times when I would be carried off to the caretakers, times when I would be bedridden for days on end. Those were the times Loki would sit by my side all day and all night until I recovered. He would brush my hair back from my face and remind me of some of our most beautiful memories during the day, while at night he would use his magic to create beautiful and mesmerizing scenes until I fell asleep.

Desperate to wipe the pain from my mind, I stared out at the universe before us, my eyes flickering from star to star, "how are they?" I asked the familiar question he answered every single day, not once complaining or trying to talk me out of caring. Heimdall knew me, and he knew my nature. He knew that the moment I stopped caring as much as I did would be the moment I ceased to exist.

He focused his solemn gaze on the stars as he found them, "I've kept a close eye on all of them, especially recently, given the circumstances," he noted in regards to what he told me last time about _her_ being relocated to Steve's apartment. I wasn't disappointed in the move, but it took me by surprise, especially since Tony was adamant about keeping her under his watchful eye at all times, "Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff are preparing for the holiday. It's clear that she doesn't like to celebrate, but she's doing so for Agent Barton. They're living fairly close to Captain Rogers, and they're planning a visit to surprise _her_ on...I believe they refer to the holiday as "Christmas." Captain Rogers has already set up a ceremonial Christmas tree, and I believe it's to make the apartment feel more like home for _her_. She's doing well, though. She doesn't like being this far from Tony, and she's annoyed that he sent her away to begin with. She doesn't know what she did wrong, and he hasn't reached out to talk to her," Heimdall informed me.

I shook my head, disappointed that Tony was starting to become distant. I could understand why he would want to send her to Steve because I trusted him with a responsibility that was wildly bigger than anything he could've anticipated. However, I didn't expect him to offer her no reason for it. She deserved more than that. Still, I was in no place to judge him for abandoning her, "and what about Tony?" I asked before feeling the sharp pain pierce through my abdomen once more. I forced myself to pay no mind to it to keep Heimdall from questioning me about the matter.

His eyes flickered to find the billionaire, the man who embodied all that I held dear. I watched as the generally stoic features of Heimdall's face twisted into fear. The change was subtle, but I could see the shift in his expression as if he went from day to night-there was no mistaking it. Even as he tried to cover it up, my heart skipped a beat. He turned to face me, knowing that I wouldn't accept anything but the blatant truth about the situation, "he's in danger," he stated, simply.

Before he could say another word, I began running. While my body felt like it was ready to fall apart, I forced myself to carry on, ignoring every ounce of pain to focus on what needed to be done. I didn't remember running to my house, but all I knew was that I was suddenly home. My father sat beside the fire, cleaning the blood from Hellbreaker. Usually, I would find myself doing that late at night, but his brown eyes were fixated on the fire as he cleaned the sword. As soon as I pushed open the door, his eyes disconnected from the flames, and he gazed up at me from his seat. I could see the concern in his eyes, the concern he had so many times throughout my life. The last time I saw it this strong was when I came back from Midgard the last time, "what happened?" he asked, knowing that something was wrong.

"I'm going to Midgard," I answered, walking into my bedroom. My shield hung on the wall next to the sword I wielded on more occasions than any other. It was the sword that my father had entrusted the dwarves of Nidavellir to craft, with his input. It was named Soulkeeper for the simple reason that it was the guardian of all souls, living and dead, from evil forces that threatened them. The sword worked much like Mjolnir did for Thor. Soulkeeper and I had a special bond. When I called to her, she came to me. If I couldn't call to her, she could hear my heart, and she would come when I needed her. It was as if we were made from the same dying star because our bond was so unbreakable.

I stripped out of my clothes and pulled on my armor, wincing when any piece of it even grazed the covered up wound on my abdomen. It hurt so bad that I nearly forgot about the wound on my back. Once my armor was on, I gazed at myself in the mirror, seeing that I looked weaker than usual. I didn't see a warrior, and I knew that part of the reason was because I was worried about going back to Midgard. The last time I was there was shortly after Loki was brought back to Asgard, and it was the moment I gave my happiness away. I didn't know what it would be like to set foot on the world I loved so dearly but where I had lost so much.

I laid Soulkeeper and my shield on my bed before sitting down at the desk my father had built for me as a child. It was much like the desk in Loki's chambers, and just as Loki penned so many letters to me on his desk, I did the same for him at mine. It was what I was doing that very moment. I blinked back tears as I wrote the first letter to Thor, explaining where I was going and why I was going there. I apologized for being reckless, which was what he would say when he found out I had left. I also told him how much I cared about him, which I always did...just in case. My letter to Loki caused the tears to fall. I didn't even know if he would receive it, but I had to tell him. If the dangers on Midgard proved to be too much for me to handle in my weakened state, I wanted him to know just how much I still loved him, that my love for him wouldn't go away no matter what he did or what he said to me.

Once they were finished, I strapped my shield and sword onto my back and walked out into the living area where my father still sat on the chair. I knew that he had heard my plan to go to Midgard, but he didn't even look up at me. Instead, he continued to clean the sword and stare into the fire, "you came back home this morning with blood on your sword and blood all over your clothes. I cleaned your wounds and stitched you up. When I saw you fight Ezra, when I saw him stab you, I was terrified that I would lose you. A father should never have to mourn their child, but I have with Hjalmar, and I was afraid today that I would have to do the same thing with you. Now, you want me to watch as you leave home to fight another war?" he asked, sorrow in his voice.

"You were the one who taught me that all life is precious, that everyone is worthy of being saved," I reminded him, reminding him of words he had once used to teach me some of the most valuable lessons of my life, "I can't leave the humans to fight these battles on their own, not when I know I can do something about it. It's my job to save them if I can."

He nodded his head, standing up from the chair and placing Hellbreaker on the mantle over the fireplace, "you're right," he murmured before those dark brown eyes met mine. I saw the fear in them that would never become familiar to me. Lately, I had only seen it a handful of times, but it startled me every single time, especially since it came from the strongest man I ever knew. He closed the space between us and clasped his strong hand on my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, "come home safe, and always remember that Soulkeeper isn't the only one who comes when you call," he reminded me.

I gave him a curt nod and reached up to grasp his wrist, "I'll be home as soon as I can, but...when Thor notices I'm gone, he's going to want to follow me. Can you give these to him?" I asked, handing over the letters, "one is for him, and the other is for Loki," I explained.

He took them in his hands before pulling me in for a warm embrace, "promise me you'll return home, Eva," he urged me, tightening his hold on me. I thought that the embrace would've irritated the wound on my abdomen, but it somehow made the pain disappear for the moment, "promise me," he insisted.

We both knew that a promise like that could be broken so easily, but I knew that he wouldn't let me go until I swore to him that I would make it back home. I nodded my head, breathing in the smell of the man who represented home to me, the man who sacrificed everything for me, "I give you my word that I will come home, but do not spend your time fretting about me. Heimdall will alert you if anything is wrong, and I know that you'll be the first one there," I remarked with a smile as he pressed a firm kiss to my forehead, his beard tickling my face, "I love you, father," I murmured, knowing better than anyone that it could very well be the final time I saw him, the final time I had the chance to say those words to him. While Earthly threats should've been nothing too difficult for me to handle, there was always a chance. I didn't know what I would be met with on Midgard, so I was uncertain whether or not it would be possible for me to uphold my promise to him.

He understood that sad reality just as much as I did, and I saw it in his eyes as he pulled away, "I love _you_, little wolf," he murmured before sending me on my way. I wonder how he had the strength to do it, to let me go. I wondered how he had the ability to watch me leave, knowing that it was possible for us to never meet again in this lifetime. He was stronger than I could ever even hope to be, and with one final glance, I walked out of my home and toward the bridge that connected my homeworld to the rest of the universe.

The walk always felt too familiar to me. Loki and I had taken the walk countless times and asked Heimdall to send us down to Midgard together. It was where some of my happiest memories took place with Loki. We would sing and dance and _live_ on Midgard. It became a second home for us, a place where we could escape the prying eyes of the Asgardians for a moment, a place where we could love freely. It was also the same walk I took with Thor to stop Loki from destroying Jotunheim, the day he fell. It was the walk I took when I went to Midgard to bring him back home. It was the walk I took when I abandoned my heart on a planet that would never understand it, that would never cherish it the way I did. It was a walk that was connected to some of my most beautiful memories but also to some of my darkest and most painful ones.

As I came to the Bifrost, Heimdall's eyes scanned over me, and I saw the reflection of my blue, gold, and white armor in his eyes. Just as Loki's favorite color was green because of my eyes, mine became blue because of his. Just as he designed his wardrobe after his favorite color, so did I. It was a reminder of why I continued to fight. Heimdall sighed, and I could feel the rumble that his chest created, "you are still wounded, my lady. I cannot, in good conscience, send you down to Midgard to fight a battle that is not yours," he stated, straightening his shoulders and showing just how tall he was. He could move like the waves in battle, but he was massive.

I shook my head defiantly, "for more than a thousand years, I've been trying to figure out my purpose in this universe. It is not to simply live and die. I am meant to do something more with my existence. I have searched for meaning my entire life, and I finally found out what it is. I'm meant to protect life, to preserve it at all costs. I don't care if I'm wounded and taking my last breath, I will continue to do what I'm meant to do," I remarked, stepping closer to him and staring up into eyes like embers, "if I am not fulfilling my purpose here, I might as well fulfill it on Midgard where people need me!"

"We have never been without need of you here, Lady Eva," he said, trying to reason with me.

I scoffed, "Asgard has never needed me," I murmured, sorrow dripping from my lips as I stated the truth. I knew that the people of Asgard didn't need me, not like they needed Thor and Odin, and that was okay. I never felt like I could make much of a difference for them because I would never be in power, and it was a job I wouldn't want to begin with. However, I could do my very best to make them as content as possible. I wasn't needed, though, and Odin made that abundantly clear. I was just another expendable foot soldier like the rest of the warriors who fought by my side, who bled for a throne that cared not of them but of the outcome of the battle.

Heimdall sighed once more, turning to face the center of the room and drawing his sword, "that's where you're wrong, Lady Eva. This realm has _always _needed you...more than you'll ever know, and you've given more love to each of us than we've ever deserved."

I took in a long breath, and closed my eyes, always hating the feeling of travelling through the Bifrost. It wasn't painful, but it certainly wasn't pleasant. It felt like I was falling the entire time. As I steadied my breathing, I clenched my fists, "if Asgard's safety is put into question, pull me back," I instructed him.

He nodded, and I knew that he planned to do that anyway. I knew that he would have to fight with himself not to pull me back if my life was in danger, "good luck, Lady Eva!" he stated.

A smirk formed on my face as I glanced over at him, finally opening my eyes once more, "luck has never been a friend of mine, but I'll make my own," I noted before the falling began. I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes, seeing the colors pass before my closed lids. I had taken the trip to Midgard so many times, I knew the distance. I knew how long I would travel before I hit the ground. Sometimes, those moments were slowed down, like when I took the trip down to Midgard to rescue Loki. Time went by slower than it ever had because of the anticipation to see him, to bring him home. Then, there were times where it felt like I was on Midgard in the blink of an eye, like when I took the trip with _her_. It was like time knew that I wanted to savor every moment I had with her, so he only gave me a single moment before watching me tear my own life apart.

It was all to save her from me.


	9. Alone Again

When I landed, a chill overcame me as soon as the bridge disappeared from around me. I gazed around at the ground that surrounded the ring the Bifrost left and noticed that it was all snow. I pulled the hood of my white robe over my head and pulled the robes around my body, feeling warmer instantly. As I gazed up into the crystal clear night sky, I saw the stars twinkling and shimmering. Midgard had some of the most beautiful views of the sky, but it was nothing close to the view from the edge of Asgard. Still, whenever Loki and I were on Midgard, we would find a way to lay in the grass and gaze up at the stars for a while. Suddenly, I noticed him. At first, he looked more like a falling star than the armored man. Seeing his trajectory, I knew that he was bound to fly right into the forest next to me.

I ran over to the trees and rested my hand against them. As I closed my eyes, I connected with the essence of life within the planet itself. She was beautiful, strong, and loving without expecting any love in return. The Midgardians often treated her poorly, but she continued to provide for them as best she could. I focused on the pulsing energy beneath the tips of my fingers as the sound of the suit rocketing toward the Earth faded away. The sound wasn't replaced by another, but instead, it was replaced by the beautiful silence of the world. In the silence, my soul became eternally bound to hers. It was an experience that I had on my own, as no other Asgardian I confided in had ever felt that way before. However, it made my bonds with the life energies of every world that much more powerful. When our souls bound together, she finally heard my heart, and I could feel the tree beneath my hand shift. I felt them all shift.

When I opened my eyes, I saw that the trees had separated just enough to accommodate Tony's fall, and as he zoomed past me and through the forest, I thanked her for her act of generosity. I began running after him, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to catch him, not before he stopped himself. He bounced off the ground a few more times, which slowed him down. Nearly as soon as he made it out of the forest, I had caught up to him enough to grab hold of his suit in an attempt to stop him. The metal slipped from my fingers, and he skidded across the ground before coming to a complete stop, face first in the snow. I hid myself in the darkness that the forest provided once the trees moved back into place. The light from the stars and moon in the night sky left shadows in the woods that I faded into.

As I camouflaged myself in the darkness, I watched as one of the greatest heroes I knew groaned and turned himself over onto his back before reaching up and tearing off the metal faceplate, "what the _hell _was that?" he asked aloud to the artificial intelligence we all knew as Jarvis. I could hear the change in his breathing pattern. I had such a strong connection to him that I could feel every subtle change within him, sometimes before they even happened. I knew that he was paranoid about what just happened, "did you see that beam of light in the sky, Jay? Was it just me? Am I going crazy? Where are we" he asked, his voice trembling.

I didn't hear Jarvis' response, but if I closed my eyes, I could hear that voice. It was smoother than anyone could have anticipated from a disembodied, artificial voice. As Tony's suit opened, I watched as he shot out of it, sitting up and staring into the woods he had just barrelled through. I knew he was trying to think of how he possibly made it out of there without crashing through trees and hitting branches. His eyes scanned the shadows, but I blended in so well that he wouldn't be able to see me even if he was staring right at me. I watched as he began to shudder from the cold, "that's brisk!" he exclaimed, his entire body trembling from the cold. I couldn't imagine how it must've felt for him. I was lucky enough to be impervious to the fluctuating seasons. The extreme heat and cold wouldn't kill me, but it could make me uncomfortable, and I was pretty uncomfortable in that moment, "maybe I'll just cozy back up for a-"

Tony was cut off by the disembodied voice that came from the open suit, "I...actually think I need to sleep now, sir," Jarvis said, the suit beginning to power down.

"Jarvis. Jarvis?" Tony asked, panic in his voice. I knew he didn't want to be left alone, not after what he just went through. I didn't know what led up to him rocketing down toward the ground, but I could tell by the fear in his voice, the cuts on his face, and the shaking in his hands that things were far from being alright for him. He was terrified, and it wasn't because of what just happened, it was because of something else, something I needed to help him with. As his eyes continued to scan the forest around him, I stepped out of the shadows and listened to his breath hitch in his throat. As I stepped out of the forest and closed the space between us, I lowered the hood of my robes, "Eva?" he asked, his body continuing to quake in anticipation, uncertainty, and the cold.

The sides of my mouth pulled up into a smile, and I did my best to push back the pain in my abdomen for the moment in order to be positive for his sake, "hi, Tony," I murmured, my heart filling with joy as it finally sank in that he was alive. When Heimdall told me that he was in danger, I was worried that I wouldn't make it to him in time or that he would already be dead.

His dark brown eyes remained wide, even as I knelt down beside him. He was in utter disbelief that I was even there in front of him, and there would be little to nothing I could do to ease his mind. The last time we saw each other, I had made it abundantly clear that I would only be back in the most dire circumstances that pertained to _her_ safety. However, I knew that she wasn't in danger with Steve; there was no way he would allow harm to come to her, especially not after all we had been through. Tony was the only one whose life was on the line. He shook his head, his eyelashes fluttering like the wings of a butterfly as he tried to blink away what he thought was an illusion, "am I dreaming?" he asked, the words causing me to let out a chuckle, "am I _dead_?" he asked, not understanding why he was seeing me.

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering why it was so hard for a genius like him to figure it out. I knew that part of it was how I left things when I went back to Asgard the last time, but I also knew that a part of it was because he couldn't wrap his mind around why someone would care about him enough to go out of their way to help him. It was devastating to see him trying to figure out why people would care about him in the first place, and I was watching it happen in front of my eyes in that very moment, "no, why?" I asked, wrapping my cloak around his shoulders to keep him warm. The lack of warmth from my cloak left my patches of bare skin prey for the cold air around us. Tony was warm, though, and that was all that mattered.

As he tried to shrug out of the cloak, not wanting me to go without, I shook my head and watched as the robes stayed locked around his body. He looked genuinely confused, but he was still too busy trying to decipher my presence, "what the hell are you doing here?" he asked, finally giving up the fight to figure it out on his own. Suddenly, his eyes filled with dread, "is _she _okay?" he asked, knowing that there should've been no reason for my presence as long as _she_ was safe.

I gave a simple nod, not wanting to talk about her, "I'm here to help. I saw that you were in trouble, so I'm here to help you sort through it and to make sure you don't get yourself killed, which it seems like you're _trying_ to do," I said, gazing at the cuts on his face. There was one across the bridge of his nose, one on his cheek, and one on his forehead. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to piece together what happened before I got there, what happened to lead to him rocketing toward the Earth, looking just as busted up as Hjalmar did when he trained with Ephinea. She could lay him out without missing a beat, "you're bleeding!" I exclaimed, reaching out to cup his cheek only for him to wince away from me.

That single move tore my heart to pieces, as if there was still enough of it left whole for that to happen. I had always been able to see through the facade he put up, but this was something new. He was far more vulnerable than ever before in that one reaction, and it summed up the way he saw himself. It summed up just how little he believed he was worth. He didn't think himself worthy enough for my help, and he was afraid that I would hurt him. It hurt to know that he could view me as a threat, but it hurt me even more that someone or something hurt him so badly that he was conditioned to expect that. Tony had been through a lot, far more than he ever could've imagined, far more than many others could handle. He was tender-hearted but hid away that side of himself to appear cold, to appear "strong."

I blinked the tears away, not wanting to show him how much his action truly hurt me, "I can fix it," I explained, causing him to finally show himself to me. His eyebrows furrowed, and I knew that he doubted my abilities, but he would see them in a moment. I reached up once more, focusing on the slow movement of my hand, making sure not to startle him again. The entire time, I felt his gaze on me, and once I finally rested my hand against his cheek, I met his intense stare, brown eyes boring into mine. They were so deep that the further I fell into his gaze, the warmer I became. As I focused my power, I felt his wounds transferring through my fingertips and onto me, and his eyes fluttered closed. Even though it was always an unpleasant experience, even though my whole body ached, the piece that made the transfer worth it was knowing that the pain I endured was a pain he no longer needed to carry. For a man like Tony, I would take on a pain that would take my life just so the world could keep him.

Once I removed my hand from his cheek, his eyes shot open. Every time I touched someone, I knew the effect. Our souls-for that moment-were connected. I didn't understand why or how it happened, but it did. When I used my abilities on that person through the touch, the connection was heightened. When I stopped using my abilities and pulled away, it was like an electrical shock, leaving the other person slightly mystified. When Tony finally realized what I had done, seeing the cuts on my face that once belonged to him, his eyebrows furrowed, "how did-_why_ did you do that?" he asked, tripping over his own words.

"I wanted to help," I answered simply before standing up and holding my hand out for him to join me. He took it, and I pulled him up to his feet. He brushed himself off beneath the cloak that fell from his broad shoulders. For a moment, I saw Howard once more, and I realized how similar they looked but how much gentler Tony was than his father. I cleared my throat, not wanting to waste time reminiscing when I didn't know the kind of danger Tony was in, "come. Let us find somewhere warmer," I stated, and he nodded his head in agreement. Even though he was warm in the robes, I knew he only agreed because he was worried about me, and he would've attempted to give the robes back if he didn't already know what my response would have been. We learned a lot about each other in New York, "we should make our way toward the closest town. I will carry the suit. Just follow me and try not to freeze to death."

He shook his head as soon as I mentioned his suit, and I knew that it was the same reaction I would've received if I offered to carry a mother's newborn child away from her. He was simply protective over his creations, and he had good reason to be. He worked tirelessly on them, and I saw what his obsession and perfectionist mentality had done to him. He wanted to protect the things he nearly killed himself trying to perfect, "I can carry the-" his voice trailed off as I lifted the suit into my arms, and rested it over my shoulder like Hjalmar did to me countless times before throwing me into the pond in the woods behind our cottage. I watched as Tony's eyes widened, and he cleared his throat, "yeah, you can...carry the suit," he murmured.

I chuckled, knowing that he seemingly forgot that I was not of this world, that our anatomy, while very similar, was different. I was no goddess, but Asgardians were physically stronger than the people of Midgard and were more durable for the most part. Closing my eyes, I felt my life connecting with the essence of the world beneath my feet, and I listened to the gentle thrumming that surrounded me. I could where it was coming from, and when I opened my eyes, I began following it with Tony close behind me. He picked up his pace and gazed up at me, "how do you even know which way we're going? Have you been in this area before?" he asked, unsure of how I knew where I was.

I shook my head, "no, but I can feel it," I answered, not knowing exactly how to explain it, but I could still feel his confusion. Tony was very grounded in science and logic, but there were certain things about me, certain things about the world I knew, that weren't grounded in anything I could explain with science or with a language he would know. I didn't even know how to comprehend some of my abilities, and there were times when I lived in fear of them because they had a tendency to show up out of the blue. I wasn't a goddess, but I had been granted strengths and abilities that were uncommon in the lives of the average Asgardian. I continued to speak, knowing that he would remain uncertain as long as his unasked question went unanswered, "it's a lot like a vibration. I can feel the essence of life, and I can _feel_ it when it's close. I just _know _the way to go," I explained to the best of my ability.

I glanced over at him, and our eyes connected. I saw every vulnerability he had in that moment, and he knew I could see it, but he didn't try to hide from me. Our connection, while strange, was deep and unbreakable. No amount of time or space could break what we had, and that all began far before he could remember, far before I would ever disclose. He gave a simple nod of his head, content with the answer I gave, even though it was vague and confusing, "I trust you," he remarked, an intensity in his eyes that could match a dying star.

"I won't let you down," I promised before gazing down at the snow that covered the ground in a blanket of white. We walked in silence for a while as we both tried to wrap our minds around what was happening in our own personal lives. I knew that Tony would be too respectful of my privacy to press the question of why I was on Midgard helping him. He knew what coming back to this world meant to me, the kind of pain and distress it would cause me, so he couldn't understand why I would come back to help him with something that wasn't a threat on a worldwide scale, not like Loki had been in New York. I didn't know if he was willing to talk about the events that led up to him crashing into a field of snow so far from civilization, so we walked in silence until we saw the lights radiating from a small town.

"Maybe we should look for a phone, so you can try to contact Pepper to let her know you're safe," I noted, making a mental note to find someone who was willing to spare their phone for Tony to use, "she must be worried sick about you."

He cleared his throat, and I felt a shift in his energy. Glancing over at him, I saw the frown etched deeply into his face, and I knew that he was upset by my words. Before I had the chance to apologize, he spoke, "she actually left after New York," he confessed, "she said that it was too much to handle, especially since I wasn't willing to put my suits to rest. How could I, though, especially after seeing what the world was up against?" he asked, running a hand through his hair before returning it to the warmth beneath the robes.

I frowned, "you've been a hero to the world for a long time, Tony. You made the choice to become a hero, and that choice didn't come from a place of arrogance or need for a higher level of fame. You became a hero because you have the compassion this world so desperately needs. You took the weight of the world onto your shoulders and fought on behalf of those who couldn't fight for themselves. If my words mean anything, you should know that you more than earned the luxury of hanging up the mantle of Iron Man and living as Tony Stark," I explained, "I'm not telling you that you need to, and I'm not telling you that she was right for leaving. Just because she left doesn't mean she doesn't care about you anymore."

He shook his head, "she moved on. She's with a new guy in a new city, and she's happy. That's all I ever wanted for her, and I think that deep down, I knew she wouldn't find that with me," he stated.

My eyes immediately filled with tears as I listened to him talk about himself like there was something wrong with him. I blinked the tears away, but the ache in my heart was still there, "I really wish you could see yourself the way I see you because you'd understand just how brilliant and incredible you truly are, Tony. It hurts to hear the way you talk about yourself, like you're not worthy of love because...you're wrong," I stated, shaking my head.

Then, there was silence again. All I could hear was the snowflakes falling from the sky. Some of them even clung to Tony's long eyelashes, which I couldn't help but notice when I glanced over at him, wanting to know if I had crossed a line with him. Feeling my gaze, he met my eyes with his once more, a light smile tugging at his lips, "so, if you aren't down here for _her_, why come here for me?" he asked, questioning my reasoning with furrowed eyebrows. I knew that his confusion stemmed from my previous statements that I wouldn't come back to Midgard unless her life was in danger or that the safety of the entire planet was on the line.

"I told Heimdall to keep an eye on certain people at all times-_her_, the other Avengers, and you," I noted, feeling the disbelief within him when I mentioned him. The man never saw himself as worthy of anything, especially love or concern, "I assigned him the task of watching over you all, and he would fill me in on any changes as they presented themselves. He promised to alert me if any of your lives were in danger, and when he disclosed to me that you were in danger, I came right away," I explained.

"So, you didn't live up to your word," he stated, nonchalantly, the hint of an entertained smirk forming on his lips. He was amused that he was right, as he had argued with me furiously when I promised not to come back. He told me that it was selfish and abhorrent to leave so many people who cared about me so much, and he also told me that I wouldn't be able to stay away for long, not with the "heart of gold" he claimed I had. I didn't believe it, though. How could I believe I was "good" or "worthy" when the favor I asked of him was so selfish, when I was poisoning everyone around me, when I was repeating the same injustice that was done to me when I wasn't even old enough to comprehend it.

I sighed, "I _couldn't_ live up to my word, not with this. You were right, though, Tony. It was ignorant of me to think that I could stay away, especially from you," I noted, glancing up at him to see that he tried to hide the color that rose to his cheeks the moment I paid him a compliment.

He cleared his throat, obviously not comfortable calling attention to the effect my words had on him in that moment. It wasn't my intention to cause him discomfort, but perhaps I just had a tendency to do so. I could vividly remember my words of praise having the same effect on Loki, Thor, Hjalmar, Ephinea, and every Midgardian I came in contact with, including the ever stoic Natasha Romanoff. Tony glanced up at me, his brown eyes sparkling as if the galaxy resided within them, "well, I'm glad you're here. I don't like having to admit I need help, but it wouldn't hurt to have an Asgardian in my corner for this one," he noted, a slight grin tugging at his lips.

"We're going to fix this _together_. You won't face this alone, Tony; you never face _anything_ alone," I reminded him, knowing that he had a tendency to believe himself to be isolated, but as long as I was alive, there would never come a day he would be alone. I would be his guardian, regardless of the amount of times he tried to talk me out of risking my life for his. I had come to understand that we-as living beings-wish to preserve things that we deem better than ourselves, and Tony Stark was far better than I was.

The silence fell between us once more, and I found myself enjoying the soft crunch of snow beneath our feet. However, the sensation of the falling snowflakes left my cheeks wet and bitter cold. There was nothing quite like the sensation of his warmth invading my own, though. He drew closer and closer to me until there was little space between us, and he pushed the robe back just enough to slip his hand out from under it and grasp mine. As soon as our skin touched, I felt the uncertainty and the fear within him. He was terrified of the future, and my presence-somehow-gave him the support he so desperately needed in that trying time. His sudden firm, yet gentle, grasp of my hand made me realize the impact I could have on the life of a man who meant so much to me, and I could only hope I didn't ruin it again.

For the remainder of our journey, I continued to carry the suit with one arm while the fingers of my opposite hand intertwined perfectly with those of the brilliant man beside me, "what has it been like?" he asked, vaguely, causing my eyebrows to furrow. I could feel what he wanted to ask me, but I was too afraid to answer him, so I resorted to confusion, "it's been a while since we've seen each other, and I don't have a watcher like you do. The last time you left, I was...worried, and I haven't seen you since. I just want to know what has gone on in your life," he explained, his heart of gold shining through once more, as if I could possibly forget how tender he always was with me.

My heart broke as I thought of all that had happened since we'd last seen each other. No matter how terrible I felt at our last encounter, I felt impossibly worse in the aftermath of it. It was as if I tore the remainder of my heart out when we last saw each other and left it on Midgard. While it was broken and abused, I was lost without it, and with the loss of my brother and the struggles I had recently with Loki, I realized just how turbulent my life had been since I'd seen him. The last time we spoke, I was doing my best to fix the damaged pieces of myself and of my relationship with Loki. Knowing he was still alive renewed my drive to rescue him from the dark recesses of his own mind, a darkness that hadn't been there from the beginning. Since that time, I had no opportunities to better myself or help Loki or keep the people I loved most safe. I sighed, "well…" I breathed out, not knowing how to explain everything to him. He had asked many questions when we "first" met, so he knew about Hjalmar and my past. The _only_ thing he didn't know about was my history with Loki.

My heart began racing in anticipation for having to open up about the complete and utter failure my life had been from the moment I left him on the rooftop in tears; however, as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, I was saved by a small and flickering light. The energy I felt was untamed, and I was caught off guard by the sudden pull to that place in particular. I pulled my hand away from his and pointed at the dim light, "look!" I exclaimed, urging Tony to take notice of our shelter for the night. I was more than grateful to have been saved from needing to talk about Hjalmar and Loki, knowing that I wouldn't have been able to lie to Tony, not without him seeing right through me. I would've had no choice but to be honest with him about what I had gone through since our last encounter.

As we drew closer to the small shack, we saw it was adjacent to an equally small house that looked to be in need of some manual labor. After passing through one last clump of trees, we came to the clearing only to see the small town spread out only a short distance from the shack. I felt the vibrations becoming stronger and stronger within my body as we drew closer to our shelter for the night, and I glanced over at Tony's face to see a look of pure relief. I knew that he had some doubts that we would manage to find our way to civilization, especially after his bad luck leading up to that point. Peeking in through the window of the house, he concluded that no one was home, but I couldn't understand why my senses were so wrong. I could feel a powerful pull to this place, and if no one was there, it would be meaningless.

Once we broke into the shack-an easy feat when Tony had a crowbar-I stepped inside the air that was just a touch warmer than the outside and placed the suit down on the floor. As I stood back up, a pulse of fire radiated from the wound on my abdomen, causing my body to seize. Before Tony could notice, I forced myself to stand back up and push the pain as far away as possible. When I stood back up, I took in the sight of Tony sitting on a stool next to a workbench, barely lit by the light of a small lamp. He gazed around the dimly lit room, all while I gazed at him, and the vibrations became more and more powerful, almost like when I first met _her_.

"Freeze!" I heard the small but strong voice coming from the doorway Tony and I had just come through. Suddenly, the vibration stopped, and I felt the serenity wash over me. The boy was small and looked frail with golden hair that melted into strands of brown and green eyes, "don't move," he ordered, pointing the contraption in his hands at Tony.

I glanced over at my companion and noticed that he had his hands raised as a sign of surrender, and I wondered if my help was necessary against such a small opponent. Tony sighed, "You got me. Nice potato gun," he complimented the young boy.

The small child looked up at me, and I couldn't help but smile down at him, easing his nerves slightly. If I had been able to touch him, I could've calmed his nerves with a bit of focus, but I knew better than to reach out to a scared child. I wanted to help him, not traumatize him, and the situation we were in was traumatizing enough. He looked afraid as he gripped his "potato gun" that he would use for protection against us-the intruders; however, the moment I smiled at him, I watched as his fingers loosened on the barrel and trigger, and his lips curled up the slightest bit, "who are you?"

I knelt down to the floor, getting down onto his level and showing him that I wasn't a threat. His breathing became slow and steady as he looked me over a few times, taking in the differences between myself and other people he had come into contact with, "my name is Eva, and you are?" I asked.

"Harley," he answered politely, his green eyes flickering between mine, "why are you dressed like that?" he asked, lowering his makeshift weapon and gesturing at my armor.

I smiled at his innocent question, and I knew there was no way around it. I didn't have to tell him I was an Asgardian, but I couldn't lie to him either. I knew that the vibrations I had been feeling were because of the life force of the child in front of me, "where I'm from, this is what we wear to protect ourselves in battle, so when I leave home, I wear something similar to protect myself from other worthy opponents I may meet along the way," I said, explaining it to him as thoroughly as possible without telling him outright where I was from.

His eyes continued to scan my body until they caught sight of the hilt of the sword over my shoulder, at which point I saw his eyes widen, "you're the Mother Goddess!" he exclaimed, causing my eyebrows to furrow in confusion. I had never heard that name before, and I wondered if he had me confused with someone else. I glanced over at Tony who just gave me a simple nod of his head, letting me know that Harley was being completely honest, but I had no idea where that name came from. I wasn't a goddess by any means of the word, so I didn't know why I would be called that. Seeing my confusion, Harley spoke again, "you fought in New York, right?" he asked

I nodded my head, "I did," I answered, my voice soft as I recalled some of the worst moments of my life thus far.

"And you're one of the heroes from that day?" he asked, sweetness in his small voice.

I shook my head, "no, not a hero. I just-"

Tony's voice from the workbench cut me off, causing both Harley and myself to switch our focus over to him, "yes, a hero," he corrected me, his eyes connecting with Harley's, "she nearly gave her life to protect Earth, and the name Earth gave her was fitting," he said, his eyes flickering over to me, "you have a bit of a reputation here on Earth ever since New York. I was going to explain it to you tonight before we ran into anyone who recognized you, but I wasn't anticipating any visitors," he explained, shrugging his shoulders.

"Neither was I," Harley interjected before glancing back over at me, "the people here gave you that name. We didn't know who you were, so we just started calling you the Mother Goddess. Some people just call you Mother."

"Where did it come from?" I asked, wondering why people chose _that_ nickname over all others that may have crossed their minds.

Tony interjected again, and my eyes met his, "because you loved this world so much that you were willing to sacrifice yourself for every living being on it. You were the mother to the population of the world that day, loving every person so unconditionally and so instantaneously. The love the people had for you pulled the population of the Earth together. You saved so many people in New York, even after you had nearly died. You sifted through the rubble to rescue the survivors of buildings that had collapsed, and you stood against the danger to protect us all. You were a mother to the world, and the people here will never forget that," he explained before the room around me began spinning.

I tried to focus my eyes on him but failed, the feeling being similar to the one I experienced when I was stabbed by Loki in New York. The wound on my abdomen began pulsing, and the pain made me want to scream, but still, I wouldn't worry Tony with my problems, not when I was on Midgard to assist him with his own. As Harley spoke directly to Tony, my ears began ringing. It felt like that was it, like this was the end. As my chest began to tighten, I hurried out of the shack, mumbling something I couldn't even hear to Tony. I hoped it was coherent enough to let him know that I just needed some air. If I was going to die, I wanted to do so alone to keep from hurting those who cared about me, and Tony was one of those people. He didn't deserve to watch me die, not when he had been one of the few people who made me want to live.

Using all the strength I had, I stumbled out of the shack and out into the woods once more before falling to my knees. My body couldn't hold itself upright as the pain flashed through my body over and over again, as if the wound itself was trying to light my very soul on fire. I fell to the forest floor, grunting in pain through gritted teeth. My eyes squeezed shut as I tried to will away the pain, desperately pulling as much air into my lungs as possible, wanting to taste the sweetness of life before the pain took me completely. The wound grew warmer and warmer, my skin feeling as if it was decaying around it. Nothing could have prepared me for the pain-_nothing_.

"Take them..._please_," I heard a familiar voice in the distance, and just as quickly as the pain and panic arrived, it disappeared completely. When I opened my eyes, I gazed upon the scene in front of me. I was in the throne room on Asgard. For a moment, I wondered what was happening. Was I dead? Was I dreaming? I gazed out at the scene before me. Odin was seated on the throne, younger than he was when I knew him, but still beyond his prime. Frigga stood beside his throne, graceful as always. My father-Aaldir-stood on the other side of Odin as one of the Allfather's most trusted advisors. Father looked much younger without a single grey hair upon his head. Before them stood a woman with her back turned to me. Black hair fell in wild waves across her back, and I sensed a familiarity in her even though I couldn't see her face. It felt as if I knew her, like I could feel her very presence in my soul even in the vision. She sniffled, and my mind twisted as I remembered the dream I had, running through the the field.

"Why should I do anything you ask of me?" Odin barked out, using his one good eye to glare at the woman before him. I watched as Frigga winced at the harshness in his tone-something she often did when I confronted him about Loki.

The mystery woman's body shook, and I sensed her fear, "I have nowhere else to take them. You are my last hope," she cried, and I felt my heart twisting in pain for the poor woman. A soft cry confirmed what I had been thinking, what I hoped had not been true. A child. She was asking for him to take in her children, and I had a feeling I knew who it was, but I was too terrified to even say her name. She was the mistress of the night, the collector of life, the absence of light. I didn't know why I was having these visions or if they were anything for me to think about further.

"Do you know what you're asking of me?" Odin hissed, causing my body to seize. While I knew this was only in my mind, it was becoming harder and harder every moment not to lose myself. I stood up from the ground and walked toward the throne. My footsteps were so soft against the hard floor, they made no sound in the throne room.

"To help two defenseless children," the woman answered, strength in her soft voice. Every word she spoke made a wave of serenity wash over me. I was not afraid, nor did I tremble like I usually did when Thor would tell me the tales about the mysterious entity, "do not think I'm asking this favor for myself; I am asking this for _their _sake. They will only know pain and suffering should they stay with me-they will only know _fear_."

Odin stood from his throne but didn't step down the stairs to be on level ground with her. I frowned as he spoke, "you come to Asgard, burden _my _throne room with your _filth_, and ask me to take the children of a demon like _you_. You ask me to humiliate _my _home and _my _people, to tarnish _my _name-"

She cut him off, her voice just as powerful as before. She was not a weak-willed woman, and I could tell that just from hearing her speak. Looking at it from the outside, it reminded me of how I spoke to Odin a few times in the past, especially when he refused to show Loki any mercy. While I felt her heart filling with sorrow and a diminishing hope, she didn't falter as she fought on behalf of the children in her arms, "I ask you to protect children who belong here. A child is not responsible for the mistakes of their parent. They should not be held accountable for either of our decisions," she explained as I continued to close the space between us, desperately wanting to see her face to confirm her identity.

Odin grumbled, his beard failing to conceal his frown of disdain. As he turned his back on the woman and sat back down on the golden throne, he let out a deep breath, "if you are so eager to pass them off into my care, you should know that I will treat them with little dignity. The offspring of Death and a serpent could never be trusted, let alone _welcomed_, in my home," he hissed, his voice low and powerful. My eyes widened as he confirmed her identity. I heard the familiar sharpness in his tone, but he had no problem cutting her down-a mother only wishing to save her children, "leave them there on the floor, and I will have my guards take them to the dungeons where they will spend the rest of their lives."

Just as Death began crying once more, burying her face into the cloth that swaddled her infant children, Frigga stepped forward, glaring at her husband, "you will do no such thing!" she admonished him, her voice piercing through the room as she stepped down to the floor Death stood upon, drawing nearer and nearer to to heartbroken intruder. Odin could do nothing but sit in a stunned silence as Frigga showed mercy to the same woman he had just been so cruel to, "bring them to me," Frigga instructed her in a calm voice.

Death obeyed the commands of the queen, walking slowly over to her, and I waited with baited breath as she whispered words of love into the ear of the first child before placing him or her gently into the open arms of Frigga, the woman I would come to know as my mother. She was the closest I had to one growing up, and I couldn't imagine my life without her. The first child was indistinguishable, beautiful but strong with piercing green eyes like the colors of spring all in one. Then, Death held up the second child, a girl with eyes more brilliant than emeralds, a green that matched the colors of spring. Her eyes were without imperfections. No other colors dared to taint the purity of that green. It was the same baby from the first vision I had of Death, but that time, I had the cold feeling I knew who it was.

My heart pounded in my chest as the entity of Death raised the child to her face, nuzzling her cheek against the smooth skin of the baby. I heard sniffles coming from Death, a woman I always believed was too cold to feel any emotion at all. She was the keeper of the dead, the bringer of the end-everything I was against. While I understood that death was a part of life, that all things would someday be reborn, she represented the absence of life itself. However, in that moment, seeing her cradling the small child so lovingly, I realized that I had been wrong, that every living being was capable of some form of emotion. Her cries broke my heart, as did it break the heart of the child in her arms, and I watched as the baby cried,

"Goodbye, Eva," Death whispered, and my breaking heart stopped. My breath hitched in my throat as my greatest fear was just confirmed. It hadn't been my own delusion that caused me to see the reflection of the child's eyes in my own, the color mirroring that of mine. It wasn't my mind playing cruel tricks on me when the heart of the child broke the same way mine did. Was it real, though? Was the vision just a part of the madness that arose due to the wound that left me feverish and disoriented? Was she...where I belonged? I couldn't bring myself to think of such a thing. I valued life above all else, so it was impossible for Death to be..._mine_. She spoke again before my mind could fall further into the delirium, "I love you. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever given. Loving you was my greatest weakness, and leaving you is my greatest failure," she whispered, her voice low and soothing as she rubbed the back of the small child.

"Leaving her here to protect her is the best thing you can do as a mother. Go. I will see to it that your children are cared for," Frigga promised as she took the infant into her arms, cradling both of them the same way Death had been. Aaldir stepped down from the side of the throne and took the little girl..._me_. He cradled her close and closed the space between himself and the cosmic entity each one of us would meet at some point. Reaching out to her, he caressed her cheek, and just as he always did with me, he wiped her tears away with the pad of his thumb.

As I drew closer to her, standing directly behind her, I wished to wrap her in my arms. Even if this was all a hallucination with no meaning, her pain threatened to tear my very soul apart. As I felt the tears rising to my eyes, her soft voice began singing that familiar melody, the one I could remember all throughout my childhood but didn't know where it came from, "I wish to stop time and stare at the stars, for just one more moment with you. Now stars shine brightest wherever you are, and they will shine on me no more," she sang before turning around. Black eyes met mine, and black tears continued to stream down her cheeks. Her hand came up to caress my cheek, cold fingers wiping away the tears from my eyes. Just as I leaned into her touch, desperate for that connection, I found myself back in the woods.

Alone again.


	10. Belonging Nowhere

***Thor's POV***

I wasted no time racing to the Bifrost at the end of the Rainbow Bridge to confront Heimdall. As soon as I read the note that Aaldir gave to me, I went into a rage. Eva was one of the most brilliant women I had ever met, and I didn't understand how she could have been so ignorant to believe that she could be needed anywhere other than right here. She was continuing her reckless behavior that I thought we had gotten past after New York. As soon as I entered the Bifrost, Heimdall turned to face me, "you noticed her absence, just as everyone else did," he noted, reminding me that she was just as much a part of Asgard as the air we all breathed. Her absence left a hole in the hearts of every Asgardian, young and old.

"Why did she leave?" I asked, my voice deep and urgent, "why did you send her to Midgard without telling me?" I asked, feeling like I was being spread too thin. Between ongoing problems with my father, my conflict over Loki, the newest prisoner, and the looming threat of Cul and his armies, I was at my wits end. I needed some explanation as to why my most trusted friend and advisor ran off to Midgard.

Heimdall gazed back out at the universe, calm as ever. His face had always been hard as stone. It was impossible for me to see any change in emotion, though Eva always claimed she could sense what he was feeling. I never believed her, thinking it was her way of gloating or bragging. Still, I couldn't read him in that moment or any moment that had come before, "I am not at liberty to say," he answered nonchalantly. His voice always captivated Eva, and I loved watching her as she listened to him speak. He continued before my mind could carry me away with thoughts of her, "she told me to keep the reason as to her sudden departure a secret between the two of us, and I intend to keep it that way," he added, loyal as ever to her.

"Send me down there at once," I demanded, tired of the games she always played. While I was sure this was no such thing, it was frustrating that she disappeared at random without giving us any answers at all. I didn't intend to keep tabs on her at all times, but with what happened between her and Ezra, I was afraid that she was going to go back down a destructive path. She had encountered a threat that was much greater than we were prepared for, Loki's fate was still hanging in the balance, and she was lost in all of it. She was hanging on by a thread, and I was afraid that she would reach her breaking point soon enough. Feeling as if my demand had fallen on deaf ears, I repeated myself, "send me down to Midgard at once!" I ordered, straightening my shoulders.

Heimdall shook his head, "no," he answered simply.

My eyes widened as he disobeyed my blatant order, but I knew that even if my father had ordered him to do so, if he made a promise to Eva, he would keep it. I growled, "I demand it!"

He glanced over at me, amber eyes boring into my own, and I could finally see what Eva always claimed she could see. He was loyal to those he cared for, and no matter how close we were, he understood Eva better than anyone else, and she understood him with the same intensity and clarity. While Eva belonged here, she had always been on the outside, just like Heimdall. They were both wanderers, warriors, and keepers of the stars. I saw his love for her in that moment, "that's unfortunate because I will not grant you passage to Midgard," he stated before gazing back out at the fast universe, "I promised Lady Eva that I would not allow you to follow her. I gave her my word that she would not be trailed unless her life was in grave danger, and I would never dream of going back on my word to her," he explained, grasping the handle of his sword tightly.

"I am the Prince of Asgard!" I reminded him, my voice nearly causing the entire Bifrost to shake.

His head snapped around, and our eyes met once more, "and she is the Princess!" he boomed, my voice having paled in comparison to his. The anger melted away from his features just as quickly as it had shown itself, but he could not take the words back, no matter how hard he tried. Of course, Eva wasn't of the royal family, so she wasn't a princess by blood, nor was she by marriage, since she had never married Loki or I. In the eyes of the Asgardian people, though, Eva was a princess, and they loved her like a queen. She was the lifeblood of our world, and the people saw that as time passed. Perhaps Heimdall wasn't above those emotions. He sighed, "I gave her my _word_, and I _will not_ break it. You often forget that she is far stronger and far more capable than anyone has ever given her credit for. She has fought off entire armies on her own. Lady Eva has always been full of surprises, and this is no different," he reminded me of the countless times I watched the beautiful warrior on the battlefield. She fought as if she was dancing, every movement fluid and flowing right into the next.

I huffed, "if _anything _changes, alert me at once," I demanded, hating the fact that I had to leave her safety in the hands of anyone else. The last time I trusted someone with her life, I almost lost her. While she wasn't mine, nor would she ever be, she was still my very best friend and most trusted confidante. I wouldn't know what to do with my life if I didn't have her.

"That goes double for me," that familiar voice sounded from behind me. As I turned around, I saw the God of Mercy standing directly behind me. I wasn't sure how much of my argument with Heimdall he had heard, but it caused a certain level of shame within me to think that I was doubting her abilities even more than her own father, a man who-after all he had lost-would have been more protective of her now more than ever before. His eyes were warm and welcoming as they had always been, but there was a sorrow within them that had never gone away since Loki's turn, since his fall, since _her_. With the recent loss of Hjalmar and with Eva leaving Asgard, he looked more put together than I had expected. Still, his dark hair was disheveled just enough to give me the answers to the questions I wouldn't dare ask him, no matter how merciful I knew he would be.

He motioned for me to join in, to walk back across the bridge with him. A look of peace and serenity fell across his features, much like what happened with Eva when she knew I needed her to be strong for me. I would never ask for her, but she could always feel it. There were countless times when she would show up out of the blue just to talk or sit with me because she could feel my troubled mind. She didn't limit this behavior to just members of the royal family or those she was closest to, either. Eva would often roam the streets of Asgard, even as a young girl, and listen for the cries of a child, the broken heart of a father who lost his son in battle, the widowed mother who was raising her children alone, the sounds of silence where she knew she was needed, and without accepting any payment in return, she would sit with each of them. Any man, woman, or child was under her care, and they loved her all the more for her acts of selflessness.

I wasn't certain if she was born with that heart, or if she inherited pieces of it from the man beside me. As Aaldir and I walked along the Rainbow Bridge, I had one of the most selfish fleeting thoughts in my life. I wished she would leave others to their own devices. It wasn't a wish that would benefit her, as I was well aware that the times she was helpless to lift people up when they fell, a piece of her died. It was a wish made purely out of my selfish desire to protect her, to shelter her. A part of me couldn't see her as the warrior she was, as the strong leader I knew she could be. I would always see her as this fragile little girl that the world wanted to break, but she was strong from the beginning, far stronger than I could ever even hope to be.

"I know that feeling," Aaldir noted, cutting off my train of thought.

I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced over at him, curious as to what he was talking about, "what do you mean?" I asked as our eyes met. Eva and him looked so different, which was to be expected since they were not related by blood. However, they looked so similar at the same time, skin that was kissed by the sun, innocent and pained eyes under full brows, the most perfect facial structure I had ever seen, as if they had been crafted by angels. Eva always said that it was because they shared the same life energy, that all things were connected, but she had the strongest connection to him because he chose her, raised her, taught her, and loved her.

He smirked, "you would rather her be miserable and safe with you than fulfilled and in potential danger. I know that feeling all too well," he stated, taking me by surprise. He had always praised and admired her independence, so I didn't think he could possibly understand my dilemma. He chuckled, "I taught her how to fight, and she soon became so powerful that there was nothing left for me to teach her. I didn't teach her how to fight with the hope that she would seek war and blood but with the hope that she would fight for what she believed in, what she loved, and she has done that. I taught her how to love by loving her unconditionally, and she soon loved everything around her with that unconditional love but only one person even _more _than that-your brother. I didn't teach her how to love with the hope that she would have her heart broken but with the hope that she wouldn't be afraid to love, even _if_ it meant having her heart broken," he explained, his voice softening as his eyes glossed over with tears that I had never seen him allow to fall.

"I taught her everything I knew about life, love, war, death, pain, and suffering. It wasn't with the hope that she would run off and put her life at risk, but it was with the hope that if she _chose_ to do that, she was as prepared as possible," he explained, blinking away the tears that always rose to his eyes when he talked about Eva. She was the light of his life, his pride and joy, his everything. He cleared his throat, "so, trust me when I tell you that I know how it feels to want to shelter her. I'm her father; I know all about that. However, the one thing that makes it easier is that I know there will come a day when I can't be beside her, when I die a warrior's death, and from that moment on, she will need to be her own guiding light, her own protector, her own hero. And if my time with her is limited to this lifetime, I want to see her smile as often as possible because that's what gives my life meaning, to see that my children are happy," he explained, silence finally falling between us again.

After thinking on his words for a moment, I spoke, "but how can you be so comfortable when she leaves for Midgard without saying a word about it to anyone? How can you be so calm when she could be in danger, when there is a possibility that she may not come home?" I asked, my mind racing with thoughts of her possible demise. Ever since the battle with Ezra, she had been acting strange, almost as if she was trying to hide something from me. I didn't know what it was or why she was acting so distant, and I just wanted answers. I glanced over at Aaldir again, "how can you be so comfortable when she's putting her life at risk?"

"Because it's not my place to make decisions in her life. She's my daughter, yes, but she's her own young woman. I make my own decisions that impact my life, so what gives me the right to make her decisions for her?" he asked, challenging my train of thought, "the only time I've seen her happier than when she was with your brother was when she felt she had done right by herself. She needed to be on Midgard to do what she felt was right. She followed her heart, and it led her there. Who are we to discourage that?"

I shook my head, "people who care about her safety and security," I answered, not understanding how he could be so blind to her self-destructive behavior, "I know that you raised warriors, and I owe all my skills to you as well. I just feel like Eva is throwing that all away to chase a fantasy. She has always put the lives of others before her own. If she can subdue an opponent instead of killing them, she does. If she can talk someone down instead of hurting them, she takes that route. It has been a dangerous path for her to tread. The greatest warriors live to fight another day, and she seems like she's on a mission to get herself killed," I rambled, feeling out of breath.

Aaldir let the silence fall between us as he thought of what to say in response to my argument. To question Eva and her decisions was a dangerous game to play, especially when I was talking to her father, the man who trusted her judgement more than he trusted anyone else, "the greatest warriors are ones who fight for others without need for recognition. They give up their comfort and peace to ensure it in the lives of others. They don't need parades or words of praise or even love and admiration from the people they're protecting. They are not loyal to a person or to a throne, but they are loyal to their moral code...to life. They're the warriors who would forfeit their lives for the ones they fight for and the ones they fight beside. My son was one of those warriors, and my daughter is the greatest warrior I know," he explained, wanting to make me understand just how honorable a warrior she was, "she jumped in front of a sword for you and-"

I cut him off, "and nearly got herself killed in the process!" I reminded him.

"It was to protect you!" he exclaimed, his voice growing louder as he saw that I was growing more and more frustrated at the situation we found ourselves in.

I was powerless to do anything to bring her back home, and I felt like I was being left out of her decisions. It hadn't been like she included me much in the decision-making process in the first place, but to be completely oblivious to what was going on upset me, "she's acting erratically and defiantly, and her trip to Midgard proves that," I stated, my anger continuing to well up within me.

He smiled to himself, his eyes telling a story of a time long ago, a time I was a stranger to, "her trip to Midgard proves only one thing, and that's the simple fact that she is willing to do anything and everything to protect the people she loves most. Tony Stark is among those people whether you like it or not. And you know what's at stake for her on Midgard," he reminded me as we finally reached the palace. I knew exactly what he was talking about, as I had met _her_ on many occasions. I knew that Eva's soul was torn between here and Midgard, and I always felt my heart aching for her. She wanted to be close to those she loved here but also those she loved on Midgard. At the mere mention of _her_, I became quiet once more, my anger and frustration around the situation falling away.

In my silence, Aaldir continued, "Eva has always been a free spirit, flowing like the waves and going wherever the summer breeze took her," he reminisced, thinking of the girl who turned him into something more than just a warrior. Where he had once been one of Asgard's greatest warriors, nothing more and nothing less, he was a loving father before anything else. She taught him just as much as he taught her, and I saw it in him every day. He changed little by little every moment he spent with her, "nothing and no one could tie her down, and that's what Loki loved most about her. As a child, he learned to be calculating in order to protect himself from the heartache and rejection he felt every single day. Eva showed him that his life didn't have to be like that. She was his taste of freedom, and the time he spent with her was time away from the rules and discipline. She was his guiding light in the darkness, the brightest star in his sky. He loved her wild beauty. She set him free," he explained as we reached the doors to my mother's chambers, "I think you have something to give her," he reminded me, gesturing to the door before taking his leave.

I stood outside the door, watching him walk away, a man who placed every ounce of faith in Eva, and I could only hope for his sake that she would make it home safely. Once he had turned the corner and disappeared from my sight, I turned back to the tall door, which opened before I even had the opportunity to knock. My mother stepped to the side, gesturing for me to enter the room. As I stepped around her, I sensed her muscles tighten, "what's wrong?" she asked, concern washing over her features as she closed the door.

I sighed, "Eva left," I stated, trying to ease her into the news. I didn't want to spring it all on her at once, so I wanted to break it up into smaller pieces for her to digest easier.

She nodded her head, "she left for Midgard. I sensed it," she replied, knowing that her prediction was true. Just as Eva shared an awe inspiring connection with my brother, she shared a similar one with my mother, though it couldn't possibly be as strong as the one she shared with Loki. My silence allowed her the time to continue, "you're upset by this. Why?"

"She doesn't belong there," I answered, "she belongs in Asgard, fighting the battles _we _are fighting instead of running off to Midgard every chance she gets!"

"And what battles are we fighting at the moment?" she asked, challenging me, "yes, Ezra came here and brought threats, but we are prepared for his forces. You speak as if Eva visits Midgard every day, but she hasn't been back there since…" her voice trailed off as tears filled her eyes. It hadn't been the day she left for Loki, but the time Eva went back the day after we arrived in Midgard with my brother. We all knew that when Eva came home from the battle in New York, she was different, and when she left the following day, we weren't sure if she would come back at all. She did, but she was never the same. There was always an emptiness in her eyes where there was once happiness. Even after Loki fell, she still maintained some level of joy for the sake of those around her. After that day, though, she had truly lost everything.

I frowned at the thought of what must've triggered Eva to go back. She had sworn that no force could demand her presence other than _her_ safety. All I could think of was that _she_ was hurt, which made me want to follow Eva to Midgard even more. I sighed, "I'm just worried. What if something terrible is happening, and I can't help?" I asked, thinking of all the possibilities and driving myself mad in the process.

Her warm hand rested against the side of my face, cupping my cheek, "sometimes all you can do in situations like this is have faith. Believe in Eva like you always have. You were never blind to her strength when you were younger, so don't doubt her now. It's important to feel fear, but you cannot let it dictate the choices you make. Eva learned that long ago, long before she should have. For your own peace of mind, try not to think about her. Feel her presence in your heart, but do not let the thoughts of her safety cloud your mind," she suggested, knowing that the task she gave me would be difficult.

I nodded my head, trusting her to point me in the right direction. While I would never have my mother's calm demeanor-a tranquility in even the most dire situations-I possessed a piece of that. I believed it was a mother's gift, one I could never master fully. Eva was best at it, even in combat. In the silence between us, I remembered my true reason for visiting my mother. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the folded note intended for Loki, knowing that my mother had always gone against the wishes of my father to visit him in the dungeons. She would find a way to get the note to him, especially if it was one from Eva, "she wrote one for Loki and I before she left. This one is his," I explained, handing it over to her. She nodded her head, knowing what I was asking her to do without saying it, "and...tell him I love him, too."


	11. The Choice

***Eva's POV***

I walked through the streets of the town with Harley on my right and Tony on my left. Harley had insisted on walking next to me, and I could feel him growing closer and closer with every passing step. Every time we passed by another person-regardless of whether it was a man, woman, or a child his age-Harley grew closer to me. It was a feeling I never thought I would have again, not after _her_. When Harley drew closer to me, I felt his need for security. I felt the way his heart raced as if it were my own, and I realized that the call of life was so strong because it was him. The life energy within him was more radiant than the brightest star in the universe. Whenever he drew closer to me, I rested my hand on his back just as my father did to me when I was young. It was a gesture filled with reassurance and encouragement.

In the silence that fell between us, I was reminded of the vision from earlier that evening. It felt as if my very soul became frigidly cold at the mere thought of the vision, at the thought that my mind could have been playing the cruelest of tricks on me. I had been searching for answers my entire life-always wishing, always waiting. I wished for them to walk back into my life, and I would have forgiven them the moment I met them. I would have rushed into their arms and embraced them. Of course, there were questions I had for them, but I still loved them. I couldn't fathom where the vision came from or if it was even true. I could only believe that the vision was just a hallucination that I was seeing because of the injury I had sustained. It felt like it was tearing me apart on the inside, so I surmised that there was some sort of correlation between the two. Perhaps I was going mad.

Noticing that I was lost in thought, Tony began to speak as we walked, hoping to pull me back to the present, "the sandwich was fair, the spring was a little rusty, the rest of the materials, I'll make do," he said, his words aimed at Harley. Still, it gave me something to listen besides the thoughts that raced through my mind. Tony came to an abrupt halt, gazing down at the 12 year old boy, "by the way, when you said your sister had a watch, l was kind of hoping for something a little more adult than that," he noted, gesturing to the device on his arm that was fitting for a little girl.

"Kaia's six!" Harley defended his little sister with bravery. While he clearly had a fondness for Tony, he had a passion when he defended his sister, one I admired, one that reminded me of my older brother.

My protective instincts kicked in when I remembered the small golden-haired child we left at the house. I hadn't been so bold as to introduce myself, as Tony and I waited outside, but I saw her through the window as she wrapped her arms around Harley before he left. She was a petite girl with golden hair that was much wilder than Harley's. While his golden brown hair fell in waves, her hair was in curls. She looked like a little porcelain doll, like the ones Loki and I used to admire in the window of a shop that was owned by a man who offered us a room in his home while we were visiting. He never knew that we were Asgardian, but we took up his offer, always staying with him when we visited Midgard. His death was hard on Loki, but we were with him until the end. Albert. I shook the thought of him from my mind as I glanced down at Harley, "are you certain she's okay by herself?" I asked, a wave of fear washing over me.

He nodded his head, "we've been on our own for a long time. Mom used to leave me at home by myself with Kaia when I was her age and she was just a baby. She's done it before, so she'll be okay," he answered, easing my nerves somewhat. Still, I didn't like the idea of a child being left on their own, especially so young. Part of his answer also broke my heart. The puzzle was beginning to come together, a puzzle that I didn't even know was solving itself in every word Harley spoke and in every action of his. He turned his eyes back over to Tony, "anyway, her watch is a limited edition. I got it for her on her birthday," he added, a proud smile forming on his lips, "so, uh...when can we talk about New York?" he asked, fumbling over his words in an attempt to bring up the subject as naturally as possible.

"Maybe never," Tony answered, his charm shutting down as I felt him tense up at the mere thought of having to discuss what happened in the city that day, "relax about it," he insisted, shoving his hands in his pockets as we walked down an alley that was dimly lit at the end. As I was sensitive to all of Tony's emotions, I closed some of the space between us and looped my arm through his. At the small gesture, I felt his unease begin to fall away.

Harley-not having sensed Tony's distress the way I could-continued, "what about the Avengers? Can we talk about them?" he asked, offering the billionaire another option if he didn't want to talk directly about New York. I sensed his curiosity, which was something that always intrigued me about humans in general. It was as if no amount of information or knowledge was ever enough for them. Tony was like that, and Harley was also like that.

In that moment, under the will of the demons that lurked in Tony's mind, he was unable to see how many similarities he shared with the boy. He shrugged off Harley's question, "I dunno. Later!" he snapped in a hushed voice before pulling his opposite hand out of his pocket and holding it up to get even more space between himself and Harley. It was his way of measuring the distance between himself and the harmless child who was threatening to pull up some of the memories Tony worked so tirelessly to bury, "hey, kid, give me a little space, okay?" he asked, trying to settle his quickening heart rate.

I squeezed his arm in my own before catching his gaze. His brown eyes were filled with fear under the rim of the hat Harley had found for him. I doubted many people would recognize us, but Tony was adamant about being certain we were undetected. Harley understood and quickly found a hat. While Tony preferred I wore one as well, I denied it, knowing that my plain Midgardian attire would be more than enough cover for me. I had left Soulkeeper in the shack to avoid drawing unwanted attention, and I hid behind an illusion of painfully average clothing. My long brown curls were pulled back into a low bun as I tried to distance myself as far away from my well-known persona as possible. Tony, who was dressed in common street clothes, was trying to do the same.

The moment Tony's eyes met mine, they softened. He knew that he was being harsh to the young boy who had no qualms with taking us in and showing us the same hospitality many people would refuse. I saw the regret in his eyes when he heard his own voice playing back in his mind as if it had been recorded. Something about it bothered him. Noticing that he was falling into another unhealthy train of thought, I squeezed his arm once more, pulling him back to the present, to _me_. He turned his head to look straight ahead at our destination, and I knew that it was for the best to leave him be. I knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't want to talk about it with Harley present, and that was if he would be willing to talk about it at all.

Glancing down at the young genius, I took note of the gentle features of his face in the time he was oblivious to my gaze. There was a softness of his cheeks, one I could feel without having to touch him. I knew that feeling. I watched as his eyebrows furrowed when he lost himself in his own thoughts. He wouldn't make a sound, but his eyebrows would pull together, and he would scrunch his nose involuntarily. I found myself wanting to know what was going on in his mind, much like I did with everyone I had ever known, but _especially _with _her_. I saw as the fear twisted his features every time he thought he heard something behind us, every time the sound of footsteps became too close for comfort. I felt him grow tense, and his big blue eyes widened in fear before he pushed it back with the same stubborn strength that I'd witnessed in Tony and Loki-the same stubborn strength I saw in Hjalmar every day of my life.

Hearing faint footsteps behind us, I watched as Harley's head snapped around in terror that someone was going to sneak up on us, a fear that should not have fallen onto his shoulders. I knew it wasn't a case of "monsters hiding in the dark" but that he had seen monsters in the light, and he knew what the could turn into in the dark. I felt his pain and his paranoia. I wanted to know, but it wasn't my place, nor was it the right time. As soon as he glanced behind us, my eyes travelled to the entrance of the alley to see that it was just a simple passerby. Upon seeing that we were in no imminent danger, I rested my hand on Harley's back and caught his gaze with mine, "they'd have to get through me," I murmured in a voice low enough for only him to hear. Tony was too wrapped up in his thoughts to hear me, but it was specifically to calm Harley.

Tony came to an abrupt halt at the end of the alley, and my eyes scanned the scene. Five shadows-silhouettes of people-were imprinted on the stone walls. Surrounding the walls were candles, wreaths, pictures, and numerous items to symbolize mourning. The outlines looked almost like art, but from the hitch in Tony's breath, I knew it wasn't. He glanced over at Harley, who broke away from me and walked over to the sizeable crater, "what's the official story here? What happened?" Tony asked as I released his arm.

He followed Harley over to the crater, but when the young boy sat on the edge of the crater, Tony continued to stand. I knelt at the side of the crater and rested my hand against the Earth beneath us. I felt myself becoming tied to the spirit of the world beneath me once more before a horrible pain washed over my entire being. It didn't stem from the wound on my abdomen, but it came from deep within my soul. As my eyes scanned the outlines, I heard terrible screams, almost as if they were happening in the alley at that very moment. I felt the heat, and I felt the pain. I didn't see what happened, but I felt it. I felt the terror, the hopelessness, the loss of life.

When I finally managed to pull my hand away from the ground, I lowered myself down next to Harley as he began to answer the question, "I guess this guy named Chad Davis used to live roundabouts. He won a bunch of medals in the army," he explained, picking at the cold dirt. He looked uncomfortable recounting the events, but Tony would be just as uncomfortable hearing them. From the outside looking in, he seemed to have it all under control, and it may have looked as if loss of life wouldn't affect a former weapons manufacturer. However, every casualty-every innocent life lost-affected him...just as it affected me. I admired that about him, but wished that he'd never been given that burden in the first place. I knew the happiness it could cost. Harley continued, "one day, folks said he went crazy and made a bomb. Then, he blew himself up...right here," he added, pointing into the crater.

Tony ran his fingertips along the stone walls, along the shadows left of the people who had died, "six people died, right? Including Chad Davis?" he inquired once more.

Harley nodded his head, "yeah, yeah," he answered, a bit confused as to what the genius in front of us was trying to get at. I knew that Tony was on a path, but I never knew quite where he was headed. He always had a way of catching me by surprise, and no matter how much he would deny it, he had that in common with the titan who came before him.

Tony shook his head and walked over to us, glancing down at Harley and I before his eyes connected with the shadows again, "yeah. That doesn't make sense," he sighed, sitting down on the opposite side of Harley, "think about it: six dead, but there are only five shadows," he explained, pointing at the shadows on the stone walls. It sent a wave of pain through my body to think of the victims but also the man responsible for taking those lives. I thought of the path he walked that brought him to an alley with a bomb. I thought of the devastation that the families must've felt because I knew that living was the hardest part.

"People said these shadows are like the marks of souls going to heaven," Harley stated, staring at each of the shadows. His eyes held all the sadness in them that I felt for the cruelty that was exhibited in that place. Harley was just as susceptible to that. He sighed, "except the bomb guy. He went to hell, on account of he didn't get a shadow. That's why there's only five," he explained, wringing his hands in his lap as he drew further into the sadness he felt over the senseless killing. I knew, even from our short time together, that he was a strong child, that he would pull himself back. However, I also knew that I couldn't watch him sit in sorrow for much longer without reaching out and pulling him back like I did with Tony. While I didn't know Harley the same way I knew Tony, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from helping Harley because I could feel his life essence.

Tony scoffed at the explanation, "do you really buy that?" he asked

I furrowed my eyebrows, glaring over at him in utter shock that he would be so cruel to Harley. My jaw hung slack, and for the first time in a long time, I felt speechless. I let out a sigh, "Tony!" I exclaimed, upset that he wouldn't empathize with Harley and treat him like the kid he was. There was no reason to push him into a different frame of mind. If Harley found comfort believing it, why would he try to spoil that? I could understand Tony's skepticism, but I knew why people had their beliefs in things that were more abstract instead of concrete. I knew places like that existed to an extent. Our fallen went to Valhalla or Folkvangr if they died in battle. Some went to the Realm of Death, where they were looked after by Death herself. I found comfort knowing that my brother was still doing what he loved most even in death: fighting.

Tony's eyes met mine, and he shrugged. Harley glanced over at me and offered me a sweet smile, and I knew he would shrug it off. Even if Harley didn't believe the theory, I was still a bit upset by how Tony approached the situation, "it's what everyone says," Harley replied, a tense silence falling on the three of us as we sat around the crater. Tony's eyes continued to scan the wall, my eyes scanned the constellations Loki and I would look at every night we visited Midgard, and Harley's eyes scanned the crater. He cleared his throat, and I focused my attention back on him, "you know what this crater reminds me of?" he asked, clearly aiming his question at Tony.

"No idea. I'm not-I don't care," Tony huffed, dismissing the question with a wave of his hand as he continued to study the shadows on the wall.

Instead of accepting Tony's clear indifference in that moment, Harley continued, a wide grin on his face as he remembered a time that seemed so long ago for me, "that giant Wormhole in, um, in New York," he reminisced, his excited eyes searching Tony for any sign of interest to talk about the time he tried so desperately to forget. Harley didn't understand the toll it took on all of us, and we had taken it upon ourselves to bear the burdens of the world for that time. However, Tony was just a man-an extraordinary man, but a man nonetheless. Harley wouldn't know the impact it had on him, "does it remind you?" he pressed.

I watched Tony intently as he rubbed his face, trying to push the memories back as they began to resurface, and I knew this would be a slippery slope. He barely talked to _me_ about his troubles after New York, but I saw what it did to him. I had my doubts that he would bend to Harley's will so easily. He sighed and glanced over at the young boy, "that's manipulative. I don't want to talk about it," he stated, and I noticed the slight tremble in his hands.

Harley tensed up, noticing that something was happening, "are they coming back? The aliens?" he asked, panic clear in his voice.

The moment I heard his fear was the moment I knew I had to step in. The more anxious Harley became, the more anxious Tony would become, and vice versa. In order to keep it from spiralling out of control, I knew that I had to keep Harley as calm as possible and let Tony decompress, "no," I answered, not knowing if my words were entirely true. I couldn't give him a definitive answer because I didn't know for certain if aliens would find their way back to Midgard. Asgardians-Loki and I-had been travelling to Midgard for millenia. Still, I didn't want Harley to worry about his safety.

"Maybe," Tony answered, completely breaking down the wall of safety and security I was trying to build for Harley's sake. The answer made the young boy jump, but I wasn't sure if it was the answer itself or the harshness of Tony's voice, "can you stop? Remember what I-"

Tony's voice began to fade away as my ears began to ring again. I felt the fear creep up in my chest as I wondered what could possibly be happening this time. The wound on my abdomen began to throb again, and the searing pain shot through my body, almost like a poison flowing through my veins, threatening to tear me apart from the inside out. It felt like my body was beginning to decay, but I was forced to live through it. I gritted my teeth, trying to avoid making any noticeable signs of discomfort. It was bad enough this was happening when Tony needed my support, but I couldn't stop it. I heard a loud crash behind us, and my attention tore away from the middle of the crater over to where the alley met the street. However, I watched as the street seemingly disintegrated, and the view from within my childhood home took its place.

The loud bang that drew my attention was from the door of the cottage being busted open, and the Allfather himself stood in the doorway. I pulled myself up onto my feet and began walking over to the scene in desperate need of answers to the hundreds of questions I had been asking since I was a child. I could no longer feel the cold air nipping at my skin, the crunch of packed snow beneath my feet, or the pain from the wound that seemed to bring me these visions; all I could feel was the warmth of my home. I watched as my father whipped around, cradling one child in his arms. As I grew closer, I noticed the other child in a small crib that he had crafted next to an identical one that belonged to the child in his arms. I could vaguely remember rummaging around the basement when I was younger and finding two cribs, but I always assumed one was mine, and the other was Hjalmar's when he was a baby. What if _this_ was all true?

"Aaldir," the Allfather greeted my father with a slight nod of his head, as he entered the house uninvited. Through my own personal experiences with him, I knew how harsh he could be, but I had never witnessed this level of apathy from him before. He gestured to his Kingsguard to wait outside for him as he closed the door behind him.

I watched as my father became visibly tense, holding the child in his arms tighter against his body, and I felt a warmth wash over me, "what here requires your presence, my King?" he asked, his voice steady as ever. In all my life, I never knew my father to be one to succumb to fear. He always explained to me that fear was what drove him to his most unvarnished place of peace, and that was where he drew his calm demeanor from. Still, I could tell that he was fighting the urge to tremble as he remained completely still.

Odin glanced around the house, "where's your boy?" he asked

"Did he do something wrong?" my father asked, his eyebrows furrowing as a look of concern fell upon his features, "if he did, I promise to speak with him when he returns home," he said, the side of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. That was how I knew he was being deceitful. Hjalmar was home. I felt his presence as strongly as I felt my father's. I knew that he lied to protect Hjalmar, something he had also done for me when I was growing up. He knew Odin's wrath, and he would never subject either of us to it.

The Allfather shook his head, "Hjalmar did nothing wrong, but I didn't want to do this in front of him," he said, and my eyes widened just as quickly as my father's did. Odin stepped toward him, and his voice lowered, "I'm sending one of them back," he murmured.

"What?" Aaldir asked, clearly not understanding what Odin was talking about. Deep in my heart, I knew what he meant, but I didn't want to believe it. I think my father understood what he meant as well, and when Odin's eye landed on the child in the crib, it reinforced what he was talking about, "you cannot be serious!" he nearly yelled, causing the child in his arms to squirm as he nearly leapt between the crib and Odin's darkening gaze.

"Do I look to be lighthearted?" Odin asked, taking another step closer to my father as well as the two infants in his care, "you have a choice, Aaldir: the boy," he said, gesturing to the child in the crib before his eye landed on the baby in my father's arms, "or the girl," he finished.

That was when my father became hostile, "what gives you the right to take one of my children away from me?" he asked, challenging the King of Asgard. I had never seen him act with so much anger toward the Allfather, but it was deserved.

"I have _every_ right because I am your _King_!" Odin's voice boomed, nearly shaking the entire house before he collected himself and proceeded with a more distinguished tone of voice, "and you seem to forget that they are not your children, they are under _my_ care, and you are merely looking after them for the time being," he reminded my father. They were words that were meant to sting, "besides, it's bad enough with _one_ abomination in this realm, but _two_ is unacceptable!"

"You gave Death your word that _both_ children would be under your care," Aaldir reminded him, bringing up the vision I had witnessed in the woods that same night.

"I changed my mind," Odin replied with a cold tone, as if he didn't care about the promise he made.

Aaldir was visibly frightened, but a look of extreme sorrow crossed over his face at the thought of having one of his children taken from him. Just as quickly as he became hostile only a moment prior, I watched the tears fill his eyes, "please, I'm begging you to leave them with me. I'm more than capable of handling these two on my own, even with Hjalmar added into the mix. I have not _once_ complained that they were too heavy a burden. I _want_ to raise them. Please, just...don't take them," he begged, not pausing even once as he begged for his children.

My heart broke as Odin came face-to-face with him, not a hint of sympathy in his eye, "do you know what they could do _together_? These two could become more powerful than you or I could ever possibly imagine, and the only way to keep that from happening is to separate them. I'm not doing this to tear your family apart, but I'm doing it because they will have the combined force of the entire Asgardian army, including the Gods and Goddesses themselves. They could tear apart entire worlds, cause death and destruction wherever they go, torture and maim as-"

Aaldir cut him off, "or they could become the most powerful force for good that the universe has ever seen. What makes you so quick to assume that their power will be used to aid the forces of evil that exist out there? What makes you think that even _if_ they had began to fall into the clutches of anger and hatred, I couldn't intervene? Do you believe me to be so inexperienced that I couldn't protect _them_ as well as the realm itself?" he asked, anger and sorrow clear in his voice. Before the Allfather could speak, he continued, "I have sensed nothing but light within them, and I'd be lying if I told you it didn't surprise me. I was expecting darkness, especially knowing where they came from, but I have sensed nothing but love, light, and curiosity from both of them. They weren't born evil, and I _know_ I can raise them to be good...I just need you to give me the chance," he begged.

After a long moment of silence stretched out between the two of them, Odin shook his head. I saw the conflict within him, but he was still attached to his idea, "I have faith in you, Aaldir. You have fought by my side since you could wield a sword, and you have helped me lead the Asgardian people since the beginning. I know that you would do your very best to change the path they were on when they felt the call of the darkness within them. Still, I cannot leave that up to chance, for I know that they will become more powerful than you or I could ever hope to be. I cannot sit idly by and wait to see if they will spread peace or destruction, to see if they decimate Asgard or turn it into the most beautiful realm of them all," Odin explained, a frown etched into his expression, "I will offer up one of the children to their father, and I will keep the existence of the other a secret. You may decide which one stays with you, but they _must_ be separated," he added.

I watched as my father trembled with unchecked devastation. He knew, as well as I did, that there was nothing he could say or do to change the mind or the intent of the Allfather. Still, he wasn't going to sit idly by as Odin pawned off one of his children, "I'm _begging_ you not to do this. I can't choose between them, not when I know the fate of the one who does not stay in my care. They're good, and they will remain good and pure if they stay with me. All I ask is that you reconsider what you're doing. You're sending a child to their death," he explained, trying to convince Odin to think about what he was doing.

"Choose!" Odin demanded in a booming voice, "if not, I will decide which one stays and which one will live out their life in the deepest depths of the Asgardian dungeons. Not even _I_ can stand to venture down there and look at the _filth_. So, you choose, or I can choose. Either way, I'm leaving this house with a child, but I'm giving you the opportunity to decide which one," he said, and I grimaced. How gracious of him to force my father's hand like that.

I already knew the outcome, but I couldn't peel my eyes away from my father. I watched as one stray tear cascaded down his cheek as he turned and looked down at the infant in the crib. He reached down and stroked the child's cheek with his finger, "I'm so sorry," he murmured, and I heard the devastation in his voice. He felt like he was failing both children by forfeiting one of them. I had never seen such pure conflict and pain in my father's eyes before, not even when I saw him after Hjalmar died. He fought back the tears even more as he stared down at the innocent child in the crib, still holding tightly to the one in his arms, "you have protected your sister so much already. I know if you could tell me what to do, you'd tell me to send you instead of her. Someday, she'll know about you and what you went through to protect her," he murmured, another tear rolling down his cheek. After a moment of silence, he stepped to the side to allow the child in the crib to be taken.

My heart shattered as Odin reached down and pulled the baby into his arms with a look of disgust flitting across his features. He walked over to the door, opened it, and handed the child over to one of the members of the Kingsguard. Once the deed was done, he turned back to my father, "I have shown both of them mercy by-"

Aaldir cut him off, "you have shown them _no_ mercy!" he boomed, causing the baby in his arms to whine slightly, "and by taking one of them away from me, you have shown _me _no mercy either," he growled, his voice lower this time as not to disturb the child. Those words were the same ones I had told Odin in the palace when he refused to pardon Loki and place him into my care.

The look on Odin's face was similar to the one he wore when I said the same words to him: shocked and displeased. Aaldir had always been his most trusted confidante, and I had always been his best soldier. It was as if we betrayed him by showing him our disappointment in his decisions. He elicited a level of anger and resentment from us that wouldn't have been there otherwise. Upon hearing my father's unkind words, he stepped back outside but left the door open to say a few last words, "keep it in the woods, and if you _must _bring it to the palace, don't take it along the streets and dishonor the Realm. The moment it shows any signs of being what it truly is, kill it!" he ordered, "it is, after all, a monster," he added before closing the door and leaving my father to place the baby in his arms into the crib that had been empty the entire time.

Once the infant was safe in the crib, he fell to his knees and allowed the tears to fall as he grasped the side of the empty crib. I listened to hurried footsteps rushing down the stairs and watched as a tearful Hjalmar crashed into our father, throwing his arms around his neck. The two of them cried together, Hjalmar not a fool to what just happened. Once the emotions began to settle, our father pulled away from Hjalmar and looked deep into his eyes, grasping his shoulder the way he always did to both of us, "I _never_ want you to forget this. Remember it as you would the color of the grass even once the snow blankets the land. I want you to remember what was taken from you, but let the anger go. She can never know about this. _Never_."

The thudding of Tony's heart pulled me back to the present. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but they dried almost as soon as I felt Tony's fear. My heart leapt to my throat as I whirled around to see him scramble up to his feet and run from Harley and in my direction at the end of the alley. I was confused as to what transpired while I was "gone," and a part of me felt guilty that I hadn't been present to stop Tony from spiralling that far to begin with. My mind raced with the new knowledge that I had about my past as well as the confusion I felt because I didn't know if the visions were memories or just fabricated hallucinations that meant nothing. I watched as Tony caught himself on the wall and fell to his knees. The moment he hit the ground, I ran over to him and knelt down next to him, grasping his hand in my own. Like I had on other occasions, I focused my energy on easing his fear and paranoia that was born of uncertainty.

As I closed my eyes and focused on his breathing and heart rate, I felt our life energy intertwining once again. The process of connecting on any level with an individual was personal and intense. The connection created a bond between the other person and myself, and it became more and more durable the more our life energies had the opportunity to connect with one another. Once the paranoia and anxiety diminished, I pulled up a beautiful memory for him. It was of _her_. I could only glance at it for a moment because if I stayed glued to it for too long, it would tear me apart. Once my eyes opened, they connected with his dark brown ones. In that moment, I knew that he was just as enchanted by me as I was by him. I shared the strong connection with only a handful of people-a love and bond I would have been lucky to experience only once, one that was gifted to me on multiple occasions.

Tony's dark brown eyes searched mine as he looked for answers to a question I didn't know. He had an insurmountable level of self-loathe, so he was more than likely questioning why I would have done that for him. He never believed he deserved even a shred of kindness from me or anyone else. I could remember Steve hugging him when I came back to Midgard after the battle of New York. Tony had a really rough day, and Steve asked no questions and offered no words, all he did was wrap his arms around Tony. He lingered there for just a moment, but it was long enough to bring tears to Tony's eyes. Steve knew how to move people, and his mere presence was enough to elicit some kind of emotion. I knew that all too well. Tony didn't let the tears fall, but when he dismissed himself, I could hear his faint sniffling. He never believed he deserved compassion and love, but I did everything I could to show him just how much he was cared for.

"What the hell was that?" Harley asked as he ran over to the two of us. His question was directed at Tony, but his blue eyes flickered between both of us.

"Language," I blurted out, _those_ instincts kicking in.

Tony's eyes widened with surprise before he snickered in clear amusement at my response. Still, there was a hint of sorrow hiding behind his amusement. He knew. He turned his attention to Harley, "that was 100% your fault," he remarked, reaching down into the snow and throwing a handful of it at the young boy.

"Don't start blaming anyone, Tony," I warned him before glancing over at Harley, "it wasn't your fault," I stated, grasping his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. While I didn't know what was said that caused Tony's reaction, I knew that it couldn't be considered someone's fault, and to lay the blame at the feet of a child wasn't right.

"He spazzed me out!" Tony defended himself to me, gesturing at Harley before he locked eyes with the boy, "_you_ spazzed me out," he accused, letting out a deep breath.

I glanced over at Harley just in time to see the frown take over his face. I knew he already felt guilty for saying something to cause Tony's outburst, but to have one of his heroes throw it in his face that it was his fault caused him distress. I saw the way he looked at Tony; it was the same way I looked at the man I considered the strongest Avenger. I watched as Harley did everything in his power to impress Tony, thinking that if he were to succeed, it would validate him in some way. To have one of his idols upset with him caused the heat of shame and guilt rise up in his throat. I rested my hand on his back, and he stepped closer to me, accepting my support.

My eyes met Tony's as _those_ instincts kicked in once more, almost like Tony had snapped at one of my own, "he's just a kid! He was curious, no different than you when you were a child," I reminded him, my voice still soft and comforting, not wanting to work Tony up again. He needed me to be gentle with him in that moment, but I wouldn't put Harley's heart on the line. I glanced back over at the young boy, "it's okay, Harley," I murmured, pulling him closer to me, "maybe next time we should steer clear of the subject. I have plenty of stories I can tell you of Asgard and the many alien races I've encountered over the years," I said, thinking of the battle tales I could tell him, the adventures that made up countless years of my life. I wanted to distract him from asking Tony questions that could upset him, but I also didn't want his spark to die away.

Tony cleared his throat, and I felt his discomfort over something that I had said or done. I couldn't put my finger on it as the only thing I did was defend Harley, "okay, back to business. Where were we?" he asked, putting his hat back on and straightening it. His eyes caught Harley's, and I watched as his false confidence filled his features once more, "the guy who died. Relatives? Mom? Mrs Davis, where is she?" he asked, placing his faith in Harley. I knew it was his way of apologizing without actually saying the words. The Tony I knew, once the facade was stripped away, had no problem apologizing or shedding a tear. Of course, he wore his shame and guilt on his face, but he didn't put up the barriers around his heart when it was just the two of us, not when I gave him the comfort he so desperately needed. The Tony on the ground was the guarded one, the one who hid his pain with a snarky comment or a sly smile.

Like Loki.


	12. The Less You Know

"You can have the shack for the night," Harley spoke softly as he opened the door of the shack for the two of us. He stepped aside to let us in and held the door until we were safely inside. Convincing Tony that it was a better idea to come back to the shack for the night and pick up the next day was a difficult feat, but I could feel his fatigue. We both knew he needed rest, but I couldn't bring myself to confess that I was also feeling much more weary than I was before. It was as if I was growing weaker and weaker with every vision I experienced. The pain from the wound on my abdomen was becoming like background noise the majority of the time; it was always there, but I didn't pay too much mind to it. There were moments, however, that the pain took over completely.

Once Tony and I settled ourselves onto the couch, Harley continued, "my mom should be home sometime soon, so try not to turn the lights on out here. It's for the best she doesn't know you're here. Our space heater is broken, so it's gonna get cold out here tonight. I'd give you two my bedroom, but that's not much better, and you wouldn't be hidden from my mom for long. I can go look for some blankets for you, though," he stated, a hopeful look in his eyes. I knew that look. He didn't want to disappoint us, and he was hoping to make up for "failing us" by keeping us out in the shack instead of bringing us into the home. I understood his predicament, and Tony's silence reassured me that he understood the situation as well.

I offered Harley a warm smile, "thank you," I murmured, glancing over at a sullen Tony, "and you can rest assured that I'll keep Tony in check tonight. No parties, I promise," I remarked in an attempt to lighten the mood before Harley laughed and ran off to find us some blankets to use throughout the night.

As soon as we were left alone, Tony's deep brown eyes caught mine, "what happened earlier?" he asked, and I furrowed my eyebrows, not understanding what he was asking. Sensing my confusion, he clarified his previous question, "you freaked out and went outside. When you came back in here-before we went out into the town-it was like you saw a ghost. Then, when we were in the town, the same thing happened. Harley was starting to freak me out, and you just wandered away. You're just acting...strange," he recalled, his eyes flitting to the dark corners of the room as he spoke. The quirk showed up whenever he was embarrassed or reverted back to his most natural state: his shy and reserved self. He maintained eye contact when the moment was intense or when he was confident, but when he was vulnerable or felt inferior, he would only meet my eyes for a fleeting moment.

I cleared my throat, thinking of a way to tell him the truth without telling him everything. I couldn't explain to him the extent of my conflict because he was too far out of the loop, and telling him would only taint his perception of me. I couldn't tell him about the visions of my past or the hallucinations I was having that seemed so real but couldn't be based in reality. If these visions were real, it would mean that I was the product of Death, that I was her offspring, and that was impossible. I cherished and fought for life in all its forms, so if I told Tony that I suspected the woman who birthed me was Death herself, it could cause a rift to form between us. It was bad enough when Thor and I came into the fold during the battle of New York. The only contact the majority of them had with Asgardians at that point was predominantly negative thanks to Loki, so we were less than welcome. Luckily, Steve-a man I thought I'd never see again-vouched for me. We were wildcards, though-Thor and I. What would happen if I told Tony about my past? What would that do to the trust that we built with each other? I couldn't throw that away.

"What happened, Eva?" Tony asked, breaking my train of thought.

I locked eyes with him and searched for even the slightest hint of doubt, but I knew I would find none. When Tony put his faith in someone, he went all in. He trusted me to tell him the truth, but I couldn't, so I gave him a version of the truth, "I just...I thought I saw something in the woods," I replied, trying to be as vague as possible as to not lie to him.

He didn't buy my statement, sensing that I was withholding something, "what's really going on? Why did you really come here?" he asked, still puzzled about my intentions coming to Earth. Asgardians were not an "open book" people. We were more careful and closed off. Asgardians kept to themselves, so trust didn't come easily, _especially_ with those outside of their species. Humans were much more compassionate, and, in comparison, Asgardians seemed much more callous. I didn't know how to tell him that he meant so much to me that I would leave my home behind to protect him, and I didn't want to make him feel inadequate by insinuating that he couldn't handle himself. If I told him that I couldn't fulfill my destiny on Asgard, I would have to explain to him _why_, and that wasn't a conversation I was able to have with an "outsider."

Before I could even ponder my answer to his question, Harley saved me when he walked in the door, holding a blanket with a frown etched onto his lips, "this is the only extra blanket we have. I looked through the whole house, but...this is all I could find," he said, a hint of guilt clear in his voice as if he were somehow at fault for there not being extra blankets. I opened my mouth to comfort him, but he continued before I had the chance, "if you need an extra one, you can have mine," he trembled, the chill from having just been outside finally catching up to him. When he closed the space between the two of us, the moon shone onto his face just enough to light up his tear stained cheeks. He looked so distraught that he couldn't find us another blanket, almost like he was failing us somehow.

I reached out for the blanket slowly, sensing his distress. In that moment, he reminded me of a frightened animal, almost as if he had been hurt before. He placed the blanket in my hand, and I pulled him toward me with a delicate grasp on his small hand. Once he stood directly in front of me, I saw him as I had seen _her_. Every time I looked at _her_, it was like I was seeing _her_ for the first time, and that same phenomenon happened with Harley. I rested the blanket in my lap and held his small hands in mine, my thumbs running over his knuckles. My eyes searched his as I felt our souls intertwine. The moment was so intense that it made me want to cry. The pain of having felt it before and losing it only made my emotions that much more intense. There was no explanation for it, only that my soul must've known Harley's from the moment the universe was created. It felt like we were long lost friends, like he was a piece of the puzzle of my life. As I searched his eyes, I saw that he felt the same inexplicable connection to me, too, and I knew I had to foster that in any way I knew how, "we'll be fine with this one, Harley. Thank you for the kind gesture. You are a most gracious host," I said in a soft voice filled with gratitude. His eyes flickered away from mine, and I watched as his bottom lip began to quiver. I gave his hands a gentle squeeze, his emotions pouring through them and into mine, "what's wrong?" I asked, tilting my head.

He sniffled and pulled one of his hands away to wipe a stray tear from his cheek. His tear-filled eyes found mine once more, "I just...I want you to be happy. I want you to be happy it was this house you came to and not another one," he trembled, fighting to hold the tears in, but I hoped he didn't do it out of shame. I would've never passed judgement on someone for showing their pain, especially not a child. He continued, his voice cracking, "I don't-I don't want you to be disappointed in me," he whimpered right before the tears began streaming freely down his cheeks.

"Oh, come here," I pleaded, opening my arms as he held up his hands to keep me from seeing the tears. He was hesitant about accepting my embrace, but I could feel that it was because he didn't want to make room in his heart for someone who could hurt him. I felt his pain like I felt _hers_-as if it were my own, as if I were feeling it for the both of us. Once he leaned in, I wasted no time in wrapping my arms around him and holding him the way he deserved to be held, the way _every_ child deserved to be held. He nestled into my body, and I rubbed his back, holding him close to me, "you have no need to be ashamed, little one," I murmured in a soft, gentle voice as I felt Tony's eyes on us. The tears falling from Harley's eyes began to dampen my shoulder where he rested his head. I held him for quite some time, desperately pulling as much of his pain into my own heart as I could. I would happily endure it for him. After enough time had passed in the silence, I spoke, "I am so happy to be here with you, and I'm so happy you were willing to let us stay with you. You took a chance on the two of us, and I will be forever grateful for that."

"Look at me," I urged him, pulling away just enough to tilt his head up and find his beautiful, teary blue eyes, "I am so happy I stumbled across this house because I got the chance to meet you and learn about you. You have a _wonderful _and magical mind, Harley, and I hope you can understand that my joy in being here doesn't come down to how many spare blankets there are in your home. It doesn't come down to the state of your house or how clean this shack is. It doesn't come down to how well I'm going to sleep tonight, and it certainly won't come down to how comfortable the cot is going to be. My joy is going to come from spending time with you and Tony. It's going to come from protecting people and doing the right thing. Do you understand that?" I asked, wiping away the tears from his cheeks. Tony still sat silently beside me, but I knew it was because he didn't want to ruin the moment I was having with Harley. Normally, Tony would try to lighten the mood with a hint of sarcasm or a joke, but he knew that it wasn't the appropriate setting for him to do that with Harley, and I was thankful for his restraint.

Even when Harley nodded his head in understanding, I could still feel his heavy heart. As we sat in silence, I waited for his mind to clear up, waiting for his insecurity to diminish; however, it wasn't long before I realized that it wasn't going anywhere. My heart broke as I thought of who did the damage to this young child's heart. I pulled him close once more, and the moment I wrapped my arms around him, I felt him begin to relax. He nestled his head against my shoulder, and I brushed his hair back the same way my father always did to me, "close your eyes for a moment," I urged him, still wanting to clear his mind. The only way to do that was to get him to look inward, to face the demons in his own mind in order for the two of us to fight them together, "now, picture the most peaceful, _beautiful _scene. What does it look like?" I asked, unable to leave him without calming the unrelenting pain in his heart.

I felt him tense in my arms, and I knew that he was struggling to build a place of tranquility in his mind that was too often filled with noise, "it's you, me, and Kaia," he answered, his body finally relaxing as his mind trailed away. My heart nearly leapt from my chest. Why me? Before I could have time to ponder it, he continued, painting me a picture unlike any other, almost like he had done this before...but not for himself-for someone else, "we're in a forest far away from here. It's summer, and the air is warm. It smells like the trees and overgrown grass. The sun is shining through the leaves, and Kaia's hair looks like melted gold. There's a small creek, and when the wind isn't rustling the leaves, you can hear the water on the rocks. There's nothing but woods as far as I can see. It's just the three of us," he said, his voice level where it had once been trembling. He was calm.

I closed my eyes and pictured the place he had described for me, and I created a world in my mind that would be the place for him to experience his dream in. I had so many questions that arose during his explanation of his peaceful scene, but it wasn't my place to ask them. I made sure to create a world as beautiful as it could possibly be, a forest as close to his imagination as I could make it. Once it was done, I rested my hand against his head, and implanted the imaginary place into his mind, making sure that he would find peace while he slept. I brushed his hair back once more, feeling closer to whole than I had for quite some time, "you will sleep well tonight, and I will see you in the morning. Now, it's time for you to go inside and rest, little one," I murmured, basking in the warmth that his presence brought to me.

When he finally pulled away, his blue eyes found mine once more, "you'll still be here?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty lingering in his eyes. I knew he was afraid that I would disappear into thin air or run away like his father, but I could never bring myself to abandon anyone else. Not like..._her_.

I nodded my head as I grasped his hands firmly, "I'm not going anywhere...I promise," I insisted, my eyes flickering between his. As silence fell between us once more, I began to feel the trust and faith he was putting in me. It was as if Harley surrendered every ounce of trust over to me, but I couldn't understand why he would do that. As he searched me for any sign of dishonesty, he realized that he would find none. As soon as he came to that conclusion, he threw his arms around me and held me tightly, as if I would fade away if he let go. During the time we held each other, I felt my soul bleeding into his, a connection that mirrored the one I had with _her_ from the very moment I met her. I wondered if my soul had been pulling me here for more than just Tony, if I was meant to meet Harley, if I was meant to be destroyed once more.

After he pulled away from the hug, he walked out of the shack without another word, taking the warmth with him; however, there was a coal that was left burning, one that would keep me warm throughout the night. For the first time in so long, I felt like I was doing something right, like I was making some kind of difference. Tony cleared his throat, "you're still good at that stuff. There's a reason why the people here chose the nickname they did," he snickered as his body trembled from the cold.

"We should probably head to bed. It's going to be a long day tomorrow, and it looks like it'll be a long night," I murmured, steering the conversation in a completely different direction. Sensing that I didn't want to talk about the topic he brought up, he nodded his head in agreement. I continued, "we should sleep in the cot together. I'd rather you not freeze to death."

"You and me, both," he chuckled, standing up from the couch and holding out his hand for me. I took it and rose to meet him before he led us over to the cot in the corner of the room. He gestured for me to sit next to him. I lowered myself down onto the cot next to him before pulling off the cloak he had given back to me when Harley offered us warmer attire. I knew how cold it was going to get throughout the night, and keeping him safe was my top priority in that moment. If he froze to death in the night, all of this would've been for nothing, and I would lose yet _another _person I cared about. He knew not to argue that I should keep it for myself because I was far more stubborn than him, and he would sooner move mountains than convince me that I shouldn't protect him. He still had the faintest sadness in his eyes, almost as if he was undeserving or somehow unworthy of a kind gesture, "thank you," he murmured as he draped the cloak over his shoulders and nestled into its warmth.

As soon as he moved to lay down in the bed, I followed his lead. We situated ourselves right next to each other, staring up at the ceiling together. He draped the blanket over the two of us, nestling beneath the warmth of that as well as the cloak. The blanket didn't do much to keep out the cold, but there would never come a time when I would admit that to Harley. He was already distressed enough as it was. As we stared at the neglected ceiling above us, silence fell. I wondered for a moment what I would dream of that night-if I would dream of Loki's face, if I would dream of _her_, if I would have another vision of Death, or if I would finally have a vision of my father-not Aaldir, but...whatever my father was called. A piece of me just wanted to dream of nothingness to quell the misery that came with the dreams and visions. I didn't want to dream of Loki or _her_ or Death or my father. I didn't want to dream of Asgard or Midgard. I didn't want to dream of the past, the present, or the future. I just wanted nothing, but at the same time, I wanted to visit Hjalmar in my dreams. I wanted to know if I was doing it right, if I was making the right decisions. Of all the people who walked in and out of my life, Hjalmar stayed by my side, fighting with me, fighting for me..._dying_ for me.

Just as the sorrow over his death began to take over once more, Tony's voice silenced it, "listen, I know you're not big on talking about your problems, but you helped save the world back in New York. I just want you to know that if there's anything I can do-listen, talk, distract you-I'm here. I know that I can't offer much to an Asgardian, but all I can offer, I owe to you," he explained, and I turned my head to argue that he didn't owe me anything. He saw the fire in my eyes, the cinders that would never be extinguished. Before I could argue against his reasoning, he continued, "you saved my life in New York, so if you need someone to talk to, I'm all ears...along with a few spare parts, but you know what I mean," he added, a grin spreading across his lips as he tried to lighten the mood. His dark, impossibly deep brown eyes, I noticed, sparkled under the light that shone in through the window.

It shocked me that he would even believe that he owed me anything, especially after all he had given me. I knew the life we led before we first "formally" met each other. I had kept an eye on him since the dawn of his existence, since the moment the sun rose on the day of his birth-a monumental occasion that I felt in my very soul. I knew the lifestyle he led before, engaging in drinks, parties, and social events. I knew that he loved the spotlight, and what I asked of him tore that all away, but he did it for me...for _her_. He owed me _nothing_, but I owed him all that I ever had and all that I ever _would_ have. I shook my head in protest to his previous claim, "you owe me absolutely nothing, Tony. I owe you my _life _for what you did for me _after_ the battle of New York. After you nearly sacrificed yourself to save a world that never fought for you, you took upon a responsibility that I will never be able you repay you for. You have done more than enough for me, so protecting you-_saving_ you-is the very least I can do. I will not burden you with trivial matters after all you've already done," I explained, searching his eyes, trying to make him understand how limitless my gratitude was for him.

Something clicked in his mind that arguing his case wouldn't be beneficial, and that it would be counterproductive because I would fail to see how he was in my debt. It was very much the other way around, which he also failed to understand. Instead, he changed the subject, adjusting on the small cot to bring himself even closer to me, "you should visit sometime. You can see just how far she's-"

I cut him off, "don't," I warned him, my eyes widening as the wave of emotions crashed against the wall I built to keep them from spilling over and overflowing. If I allowed myself to feel that particular loss, I would succumb to it, and that was dangerous. My grief would control my actions. I used my grief and sorrow to fuel my passion, which made me a worthy opponent in battle, but when I allowed my grief, sorrow, anger, or fear take control, it was dangerous for myself and the people I meant to protect in the first place. I had placed the "loss" of _her_ into a section of my mind that I never visited. If I didn't, I wouldn't have been alive to be in that very moment with Tony.

He furrowed his eyebrows, "what?" he asked, clearly confused as to why I wouldn't want to hear about _her_ after all that had transpired. It was the only time Tony saw through to my raw emotions, when I left _her_. It was clear that he was expecting me to be interested. I wasn't.

"Don't talk about her. I don't want to know," I warned him, "the only thing I want to know is if she's safe. Aside from that, it's no longer my concern," I murmured, reinforcing the stone walls keeping back the dark emotions. The farther she could be from me, the safer she would become. While I wanted nothing more than to know what she was doing during every waking moment, I knew that it would only make it harder to move on and be away from her.

He furrowed his eyebrows, his face twisting with disbelief, "that's a bit harsh...even for an Asgardian, and _especially_ for _you_," he exclaimed, the frustration clear in his voice. He would never understand the feeling of choosing. It was either my happiness or her safety, and I chose what I believed would be best for _her_. I needed to live with it, and that was something Tony couldn't possibly understand. I couldn't fault him for it, but I wished he could understand that it wasn't in an attempt to be hard-hearted. I never knew a love so pure than the moment I met _her_, and the moment I gave that away was the single most devastating moment of my life thus far.

I felt my eyes begin to sting with the unshed tears. I cried so much during those first few weeks that it felt as if I had watered the forests of Asgard. I gazed up at Tony, trying to push the feelings back far enough that I wouldn't lose control, "the less I know, the easier it is to stay away. Never think for even a _moment _that I don't care. I want, more than anything else, to be here with her, to be a part of her life, to teach her, to hold her, to guide her, to _love_ her. However, my presence in her life would put her in even more danger than she's already in right now. I won't do that. I would _never_ do that," I explained, sighing as I gazed back up at the ceiling, willing myself to think of anything else. The tears were coming quickly, and I couldn't let them fall for fear that they would never stop, that I would somehow drown the world with them. I needed to remember why I was on Midgard in the first place, to help Tony-not the other way around.

He remained quiet for a long moment, pondering the meaning behind my words. I knew how confusing it must've been for him. It didn't make much sense to someone "on the outside," how her life could possibly be in danger, but I knew the risks, I weighed them all, and I had made my decision. Knowing that I wasn't going to explain the details to him, he gazed back over at me, our eyes bleeding into each other's. For a moment, I lost myself in the depth of them, drowning in their beauty and pain, "you're far too good for this, Eva, for _everything _you've been through," he commented, his voice soft, every word sliding off his lips like a waterfall of velvet. He and I were bound together by an unseen thread. I viewed him as one of my own since the moment we met, long before he could even remember. I loved him as if he were my blood, and I watched over him as if he were one of my offspring.

I snickered at his words, "it's funny to hear that from you, a man who cannot see the goodness in himself," I stated, my voice softening as I made my point.

He shook his head, "I've done a lot in my life that I'm not proud of, a lot that you don't know about," he assumed, completely wrong. I had watched over him since the beginning, pestering Heimdall constantly for information about how he was doing as well as three other humans I had met years prior to Tony's birth, one of whom died shortly after-a death I could never forgive myself for, blaming myself for not seeing it coming and being there to prevent it. I knew all that Tony had done; the best, the worst, and everything in between.

For a moment, I wondered if he was truly too blind to see how vital he was to everyone around him, how much of a hero he was to the world, "that's what you fail to see, Tony. The people who care about you-who _love you_-they don't just want the moments you're proud of. They want to see the moments you fall because your willingness to get back up inspires them. It inspires _me_," I explained, reaching down between us and grasping his hand in my own, wondering what it would take for him to understand just how much he was loved and cherished.

"No one wants that," he argued, pulling his hand away. I saw the frustration in his eyes before he looked up at the ceiling, "they want someone like _you_. I remember the orphanage, Eva. The people want someone who never falls, someone who can withstand the storm _and_ help rebuild. People don't love Tony, they love Iron Man; _he's _everyone's hero," he ranted, irritation seeping into every word as he spoke.

My eyes widened as I thought of the orphanage. I had tried to push it back as far as possible for as long as I could. I tried not to think about the battle of New York, but when I did, the majority of my thoughts were clouded with images of Loki. I tried not to think about the orphanage, but the moment Tony mentioned it, I remembered those hazel eyes. Knowing that I couldn't dwell on it, I pushed it aside, "I _fell _at the orphanage, Tony, but like you, I picked myself back up and focused on the task at hand to prevent even more chaos," I explained, referencing the countless times he did the same thing. When he was faced with fear, when the odds were stacked against him, he looked the fear and adversity right in the eyes and pushed back against it with all he had. When he fell, he pushed himself back up, dusted himself off, and fought harder than ever before. We both idolized each other, but both of us failed to see our own greatness, both believing that we deserved no kindness, generosity, or gratitude.

I sighed, seeing that he was still unconvinced, "I come from a place where our technology is far more advanced than many Midgardians have even managed to _dream _of, but you're still one of the smartest people I've ever known; however, you are so _ignorant _to your importance in everyone else's life. You think yourself to be expendable to the ones who love you, to the ones who would be lost without you. You believe everyone would be better off without you, that you are simply a weight that's holding them down. You think you're damaged, like you need to be fixed, but those pieces are what make you shine like the sun. Those pieces that you believe to be broken are what make you one of the most beautiful souls I've ever encountered in my lifetime," I insisted, wanting him to see that my words were built upon a foundation of truth. I grasped his chin and turned his head until our eyes met once more, "I just wish you could borrow my eyes, even if only for a moment, so that you could see yourself the way I see you," I murmured, cupping his cheek with my hand as I stroked the smooth skin beneath my fingertips.

We laid together in complete silence, our eyes navigating each other like ships lost at sea, desperately trying to find their way home. The look in his eyes when I finished my rant was one of disbelief, as if he couldn't understand why I would see him as something far more beautiful than he saw himself. For a man who longed for acceptance, he also longed for them to despise him just as much-if not more-than he already despised himself. He felt he deserved it. While he was surprised by my words to him, the look in his eyes was still the same: unconvinced. I frowned, feeling the hot tears of shame rise to my eyes. If there was a way to convince him of his goodness, I would find it, but until then, I was left in desperation. I sat up in the bed, eager for a moment to catch my breath and be alone with the silence for a moment. Before I stood up from the cot, though, I gazed back down at him, "for the record, _I_ love Tony Stark; he's _my _hero," I insisted, standing up and finding my way outside.

I knew that Harley wanted us to keep a low profile, but there was no sign of his mother just yet. The moment I felt her presence, I would be sure to find my way back inside the shack, not wanting to get him into any trouble. As I watched the snow fall around me, I found myself recalling the memory I wanted to give away so badly. My mind betrayed me time and time again, and one of the many memories I wished to forget was pulled to the surface: the orphanage. When I closed my eyes, all I could see were hers. The little girl with eyes bluer than all the oceans in all the nine realms. They were sad eyes that had a glimmer of hope. I didn't know her name, but I knew her face, and I knew those eyes almost as if we had encountered each other in another lifetime, as if we would encounter each other once more. She was dainty, young, innocent...precious.

After my body healed itself from the encounter with Loki, I left him to fight with the other Avengers on the ground. My job had been to contain the threat, to draw the Chitauri out of the buildings where the Midgardians who couldn't run from the city were finding shelter. When I had reached the orphanage, attempting to stop a group of them, I came to a room with 10 Chitauri surrounding dozens of children. Upon entering the room, the Chitauri scrambled to grab the defenseless children, ready and willing to use them as shields against me. That was when my eyes caught those of the little girl. She looked at me like a hero, like I was there to rescue her and only her. Tears welled up in her eyes as the fear rose within her, and I desperately tried to figure out a way to diffuse the situation. The only way I could think of was to surrender, to let them take me hostage and hope that my team would find a way to free me, or the Chitauri would just kill me instead. Either way, it would've been better than letting them massacre the children.

However, the moment I raised my hands to surrender, they took it as a threat, and they began killing the children, starting with that little girl. Then, everything escaped me. I couldn't remember anything between that moment and the moment I found myself on the floor with her body in my arms. Chitauri blood covered my suit, my hands, my sword. It was splattered throughout the room, mixed with the blood of the children they killed. It was one of the few moments in all my life that I felt pure and unbridled hatred. A piece of me knew that I did everything in my power to save them all, but another part of me shattered at the thought of lives lost. Little lives. Those children never knew love, and I was convinced that I could've somehow taken them all back to Asgard with me and shown them all the love in the world...if I hadn't failed them. I had sat in all the carnage of the orphanage until Tony found me holding onto the body of the little girl. He didn't see me cry, but I did. He didn't see me fall apart, but I did. He didn't see the nightmares I had, but I had them. He didn't know about the guilt I felt, but I felt it.

I remembered the orphanage.

"What are you thinking about?" I heard his voice from behind me, pulling me from the horrific scenes playing in my mind. I jumped at the sound of his voice, startled by his presence. It wasn't often that someone could sneak up on me. Loki had been able to do it for a while, but that was before I learned to see through his illusions. Tony took his place next to me as we watched the snow fall together.

Closing my eyes, I found all the strength I needed from the world below my feet. Her energy coursed through my veins, and I found myself wondering what I had ever done to deserve her mercy and understanding. She connected with me and placed a sturdy foundation beneath me to help me find my balance. As tears stung my eyes, I continued to gaze out at the snow, not wanting Tony to see me so vulnerable and weak, "there's not a day that goes by when I don't think of the ones I failed-the bloodshed, the pain, the _loss_. I fall asleep and dream of their faces. I know that given the choice between compassion and apathy, I would always choose the former. However, I know how painful compassion can be for the person giving it, how much _guilt _comes with failing those you wish to help. I know how much compassion you hold in your heart, Tony. You would take on any amount of danger-sacrifice _yourself_-to save someone else. You see the goodness in everyone else around you, but you fail to see it in yourself. I don't understand that," I explained, feeling hopeless that he would ever truly understand how important and wonderful he was.

He snickered to himself, somehow amused by my words, "you've done the same since the day I met you, Eva. You should understand it better than anyone," he reminded me, clearly surprised that I wasn't more sympathetic to his situation. As soon as I opened my mouth to argue my point, he continued, "I have _never_ heard you speak a kind word about yourself, but I think the world of you. You're upset that I have a certain level of self-loathe that I think is completely justified, but you've _always _been harsh when you talk about yourself," he explained with a sigh, almost as if saying the words wore him out.

I glanced over at him for a moment, taking in the beauty and honesty in his eyes. I could see how much distress my actions caused, and I knew that in order to ask for him to be kinder to himself, I had to show him that I was also willing to do the same. I nodded my head, agreeing with his statement, as I gazed back out at the woods and watched the snow fall, "I loved myself at one point, though. I treated her well and spoke kind words to her. I had a love who whispered words of love directly to my broken heart. I had a man who took me into his home and raised me as if I was one of his own. I had a brother who loved me the way everyone deserves to be loved at least once in their lives-completely and without hesitation. Even when I lost _everything_, when I thought the goodness in my life had disappeared, I met _her_," I said, recalling one of the most joyous moments of my life that occurred so soon after my entire world crashed down around me.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I felt a few slip down my cheeks as I thought of _her_, as I thought of the unbridled love I felt for _her_. After Loki's fall, I was certain that I had nothing left to live for, that there would be no purpose for me to serve. He took all the light and love from my life when he fell from the Rainbow Bridge, but meeting her...I felt my soul being stitched back together. She breathed life back into me, and I realized that, while Loki would always be my eternal love, she was my person. My bottom lip quivered as I swallowed the tears back, "then, I abandoned her just as my love abandoned me," I noted, glancing over at Tony and feeling that glimmer of rage I held deep down within the very pit of my stomach, "I've failed the people in my life, and in turn, I have failed myself. I deserve no kind words, _especially _not from myself. In a perfect world-in a perfect _life_, I would've done right by all of them, and he would still be mine. I would have protected him even more than I did, and I would've rather seen myself put to death than watch him fall the way he did. In a perfect life, he would be happy, free, _accepted_. That was all I ever wanted for him, and I believed all the rest would fall into place, but I was wrong. I gave him all I could, but I hadn't anticipated what others could take from him. By tearing him apart, they did the same to me," I ranted, feeling the heat course through my body as the wound on my abdomen began throbbing once more. A searing pain shot through my body, and I gritted my teeth to keep it from overcoming me completely.

"Who was he?" Tony asked, his voice soft and curious.

The moment he asked the question, the rage began to die away as I thought of the centuries we spent together, the endless and eternal love we shared, the freedom we felt with each other. I thought of our future family, the...children we spoke of. I thought of the days and nights we spent in the forest next to the tree, gazing up at the sky through the branches and leaves. We would be curled up together, molding our bodies back together to form the one soul our two bodies were created from. Loki would sing to me often, his like velvet against my skin. If I was upset, he would wrap his arms around me and sway back and forth with me, holding me like I was the very essence of his existence. As I thought of my most sacred memories, the anger and rage died away, but it still lived within me like a dull ache as I thought of a love lost and the pain _he_ endured. I glanced back over at Tony, "search your heart, and you'll find that you already know the answer to that question," I insisted before watching the memories flit across his face.

"Loki," he answered confidently but gently. He hadn't given much thought to his response, almost as if he had always known, "I never pegged you to be into the bad boys," he teased with a smile in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood.

"If you knew him for as long as I have...if you knew him the _way_ I have, you'd see a different side of him. You'd see how passionate and caring he is," I stated, tears filling my eyes once more as I thought of the memories we made, as I wondered if we would ever make anymore, "I've known him all my life, and in the beginning, he was nothing like what you saw in New York. He was always kind-hearted and sensitive. He had so much empathy when it came to everyone else, but they didn't have that kind of patience and kindness for him. People abused him, hurt him in ways I couldn't protect him from, cast him away because he was different. He wasn't Thor, and that's what people expected of him. His own father, our king, never appreciated Loki. He had only a handful of people who showed him love, understanding, kindness, and compassion, people who fought for him. I was one of them. I will _always_ be one of them because the man I love is still in there beneath all the rubble, and it's my responsibility to free him."

"You really miss him," Tony murmured, his voice light, almost as if he didn't want to disturb the silence and peace that I so desperately needed. I didn't want to drown in it, though, not after what happened last time.

I nodded my head, wiping the tears from my cheeks as the heat rose once more. The image that flashed before my eyes was one of the man who stole it all away from me, and I tried my best to bury it as quickly as possible. I learned early in my life that any extreme emotion, including endless and eternal love, was dangerous for those around me, people who I loved and cared about. Suppressing those emotions was the only way to retain control. I couldn't risk the alternative. I glared out into the frozen forest, "my heart is locked in the dungeons beneath Asgard. Thanos took everything from me when he corrupted my beloved, turned him away from me, and stole the very soul from within me. I will watch as he burns for what he has done," I growled, feeling the heat within my body. Every time I felt fury or an incomprehensible level of rage, a fire-that felt as if it rivaled the heat and energy of a star-coursed through my veins.

I clenched my fists, trying to focus on anything else, but the anger wasn't going away. I couldn't feel so deeply with Tony so close. I couldn't even bring myself to imagine the consequences of losing control in his general vicinity. In a desperate attempt to stop the fire, I gripped my abdomen, the mere touch of my fingers sending a surge of pain through my body that stemmed from the wound on my abdomen. I winced at the excruciating pain, but I also breathed a soft sigh of relief that I managed to gain my control once more. I closed my eyes, seeing the face of the man I first saw when I searched Loki's mind on our way back to Asgard. I wanted to know who had done this to him, and I saw him. The Mad Titan. I gritted my teeth as I focused on the pain instead of the anger, "Thanos will know that he should have run while he had the chance because when I find him, he will understand that there has never been a fury as great as mine. He will beg for his life on his knees, but just as he did to Loki, I will grant him _no _mercy. I will be the one to deliver him to death herself, and if that means I meet her as well, so be it," I hissed, knowing that I would gladly meet my end if it meant that it would have my vengeance.

"I've never heard you talk like that..._ever_...about _anyone_," Tony murmured, shocked at my words. In the time we had known each other, Tony found solace in my peaceful nature. The love and compassion came naturally to me, but there was a darker side to me that I disowned, a part of myself that terrified me. She didn't come around often, but when the ones she loved were hurt or taken from her, her imagination was endless when it came to the ways someone could suffer. She wanted to tear them apart, to hurt them the way they hurt her and her loved ones. She was a force to be reckoned with. She was the embodiment of madness, rage, fury, fear, and death. She was the opposite of everything I believed in and treasured. She was the human embodiment of everything I fought so hard _against_, but I knew why she was there. She was there to preserve life in a way I couldn't. She did what needed to be done to bring about justice and peace. She wasn't afraid of getting her hands dirty in situations that couldn't be resolved with words. Tony had never seen her, so he was right to be disturbed by her sudden appearance, "who _is_ Thanos?" he asked, still visibly shaken.

I cleared my throat, "a long story for another time," I answered, finally pushing her back into the darkness and locking her away until she was needed.

Sensing that I didn't want to talk about Thanos or Loki anymore, Tony changed the subject, "you knew my father," he claimed, making a rather bold statement out of the blue. My eyes widened as the utter disbelief washed over me. I opened my mouth to deny the claim, but I felt like a fish out of water. The mere mention of his father felt like he punched me in the chest, but I never could have anticipated that Tony would find out about that companionship. Before I could find a way to lead him away from the truth without _directly_ lying to him-something I couldn't do-Tony continued, "I found a few of his journals, and he wrote about you..._extensively_. He had pictures of the two of you, pictures of _just_ you, pages upon pages upon pages of what you wore, the way you wore your hair, your favorite things. You knew him," he claimed once more.

I sighed, knowing that there was no way for me to deny what he was saying. It wouldn't have made much sense to lie when Tony had seen pictures of me with his father. I chewed on my bottom lip, turning my entire body to face him, "Howard was a good man. I know that he had his faults, but he was also one of the most incredible people I have ever known. The way he hurt you, though," I frowned, reaching up to stroke Tony's cheek. He winced just as he always did, but he made a conscious effort to let his guard down when we were together. Still, I could sense his anxiety when people raised their hands at him because he had known angry hands far more often than hands that would show love and gentleness, "I can never forgive him for that. In the time I knew him, though, he always fought for what he thought was right, and I can't fault him for that. He was just as human as anyone else, and just like with you, there were some demons I couldn't save him from," I murmured, tears welling up in my eyes once more as I thought of my late friend.

Tony's eyebrows furrowed, "why didn't you tell me?" he asked, confused as to why I would keep my friendship with his father a secret, why I wouldn't open up and explain to Tony that our connection began before he was even born, before Howard even _met_ Maria.

I snickered, trying to find a lightness in such a heavy conversation, "I didn't want to age myself," I smiled, recalling a time when Howard said the same thing to me. Once he had discovered my true origins and understood that I had been around for over a millenia, he was slightly embarrassed by the comment. Still, even after I told him about being from another realm, he treated me no differently than when we first met each other. He was still one of my closest friends, and he was still just as curious about my history. There never came a time when he treated me like an experiment or an outsider, and I loved him for that. Tony's eyes were still glazed over, still questioning my reasons for not disclosing that piece of information, "the honest reason why I didn't tell you was because I didn't want to upset you. My relationship with your father has _nothing _to do with my relationship with you. It doesn't define our relationship, and it would never alter the way I feel about you. He was the first human I ever had a true connection with, the first human who ever understood me on a fundamental level. He understood why I sacrificed for something greater than myself. He understood why I would die to protect someone I didn't even know. He understood me, and I understood him. I know that your relationship with him was difficult, and I didn't want to glorify the man he was because I know how much he hurt you," I explained, upset by the choices of my late friend.

Tony's eyes met mine, sparkling with a hope that was rarely present when he spoke about his father. Usually, there was frustration, humiliation, and a bit of contempt. When our eyes locked in that moment, though, I saw him for the first time. He wasn't the businessman, the showman, the engineer, the hero. He was the man who missed his father, the man who was looking for answers, the man who never had a chance to get to know his father. He blinked back the tears in his brown eyes, letting out a long breath, "how did you know him? What...what was he like?" he asked.

I cleared my throat, staring down at the snow beneath me. Tony didn't want to hear about the man his father was while he was alive. He wanted the stories of his father when we first met, when Howard was still in his prime. He wanted to get to know his father through me because Howard was cold as he saw more and more of the world. I wished I had been able to save him from witnessing the violence and despair. I would've done everything in my power to keep him the way he was when we first met just so that Tony could know his father the way I knew him. I would've protected Howard, and in that way, I would've protected Tony. I frowned to myself, "we should go inside before you freeze to death out here," I stated, trying to change the subject. Thinking about Howard always upset me for so many reasons. I missed him, but I had been mourning my friend long before his passing.

Tony hesitated, not wanting to drop it, especially when he was so close to having some answers. His eyes scanned my face and body before he nodded, knowing that it was for the best if we made our way back into the shack. The cold nipped at my skin as we walked back into the shack. I cast one last look into the window of the small home to see Harley curled up on the couch, hugging his knees to his chest as he drifted off to sleep. I smiled to myself before stepping into the shack and closing the door behind me. Tony and I made our way back over to the cot, and he motioned for me to take my place on it first. When I finally situated myself, he crawled into bed next to me, our bodies so close to one another that I felt his warmth against my skin without him even touching me. Our eyes locked, and I knew that he had no intention of sleeping until he had answers, "tell me about him...please," he pleaded with so much desperation in his voice.

I nodded, preparing myself to remember some of the most vulnerable moments of my life. I would remember a time before love hurt me, before love was _taken_ from me. I would remember a time when I saw all the gentleness and kindness I needed in the eyes of a Midgardian, a tenderness that died within him with time. I would remember my ventures to Midgard with my beloved by my side every step away. I would remember the dancing, the promises, the late nights, the love, the laughter, the midnight talks, and how young we made each other feel, as if we hadn't already lived for a millenia. I would remember the walks through the city when it was still young. I would remember the way Loki would snake his arm around my waist and pull me close to him when there was a chill in the air. I would remember the way he walked closest to the street to keep me away from the traffic, it made me feel safe and made him feel important. I would remember the way he walked in stride with me, never ahead of me, never behind me. I would remember how he slipped his slender arms from his jacket to drape it over my shoulders when a chill would cause me to shiver. I would remember how he always looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time, how we loved like it was the first moment we knew we loved each other.

I would remember the moments that turned my heart into stone.


	13. Once Upon the 40's

"_We're still going dancing after this, right?" I asked, gazing up into his blue eyes that matched the color of the sky. Midgard was beautiful as it was, but he made the world around him that much more beautiful in my eyes. My dress-a material that matched the color of his eyes-swung around my knees as we walked toward the expo that Loki had been speaking of for weeks since our last trip to Midgard. He smiled down at me, his eyes still glistening with a hint of excitement that he always tried to hide whilst in the midst of his father. Odin never treated him fairly and always scrutinized when Loki was happy "for no reason." He knew that he never had to hide any piece of himself from me, though, and that he need not even try. We had known each other for nearly a thousand years, ever since I could remember, and I knew everything there was to know about the young prince of Asgard._

_He snickered, "would it be a trip to Midgard without a little dancing?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at me. Dancing was something we always did when we made any trips to Midgard, regardless of what our trip was for in the first place. Loki was born with a grace and talent for dancing, and it showed in the way he moved. He walked with the same purpose and grace as he did when he danced, and that paled in comparison to the way he held me when we danced. The only thing it could be compared to was the way he held me at night after we spent hours rediscovering one another in the most intimate ways. Those were some of my favorite moments with him, when we were both so vulnerable to each other, but we were comfortable with it because we knew that our insecurities, our fears, our needs would never be exploited by the other. We trusted each other implicitly, and that would never change._

_I smirked, remembering the one time that we didn't go dancing. Loki had been so tired after the full day of mingling and running about the garden with me that we cancelled our plans to be at the wedding and celebrations of Mary, who I had taken a liking to for her fiery attitude, and Francis. Mary was beautiful and gentle, but she was also regal with a sharp-tongue, which was something I admired her for greatly, especially as she grew older. I visited her often with Loki, looking after her as if she were my own. Loki often admired her for being powerful in the face of adversity. People were reluctant to seeing a woman upon the throne, but Loki and I had seen too much to hold prejudice against someone simply because she was a woman. It was a terrible shame when we discovered what happened to her. Still, she had never let us forget that we missed her wedding, often bringing it up lightly to tease Loki and I, "do you remember the 50's?" I asked, reminding him of a time that didn't seem that long ago, a time that felt simpler in a way. We could spend hours running through the courtyard of the tudor style home Loki had built for us. It was our place to escape to when we left Asgard._

"_Almost 400 years, and you __still__ bring up that __one__ time," he reminisced, a smile breaking out across his face. I watched the memories dance across his mind, gazing up at him as I longed to revisit our old life. We had always been happy, but the days seemed to move slower then. We could just exist together. He drew himself closer to me, his face growing closer and closer to my ear. I could feel his warm breath cascade across my neck, "perhaps I can make it up to you later tonight?" he whispered, his voice low and smooth as velvet._

"_Loki!" I gasped, pushing his chest in a playful manner. He began laughing, and the sound was like music to my ears. There had never been another song more beautiful than the laughter of my love. I stifled my own laughter, not wanting to draw attention from the passersby, but I couldn't help the smile which tugged at my lips. I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing that he wanted to get that reaction out of me, "you won't have any of your fun unless you take me dancing. If you back out, you'll be sleeping on the couch," I teased him, accepting the challenge to see which one of us would back down first. He rarely brought it up if he wasn't fairly confident that he would win, but I knew how to beat him, how to make him tick. I loved winning for the simple fact that I loved watching Loki blush._

"_I know what to do to get you to sleep on that couch with me, darling. I know how to make you quiver," he murmured, his voice resembling a growl, causing my most primal urges to bubble up to the surface. I gripped his arm tighter as we continued to walk. He traced a slender finger of his free hand along the skin of mine, and I shivered beneath his touch. I found his eyes once more to see that he looked hungry, as if he were eyeing his prey, "you should enjoy that pretty blue dress because I'm going to have fun tearing it off of you later," he remarked as a mischievous grin tugged at his lips._

"_Watch what happens to you if you tear my dress," I challenged him, cocking my eyebrow at him._

"_You should watch your tongue, my love," he chuckled, thinking that he won the unspoken challenge, that I had somehow run out of ways to make him blush._

_I didn't._

_Without missing a beat, I veered off into an alleyway that left us barely visible to the passersby. No one would take notice of the two of us, especially since we knew how to blend in with the general public for the time period we found ourselves in when we travelled to Midgard. I pressed Loki against the stone wall, taking care not to hurt him as I held him against the cool surface. I leaned in close to him, allowing him to shiver with anticipation. I brought our faces as close together as they could be without partaking in a kiss that would relieve so much of the tension we were both feeling. I leaned into his ear, my breath hitting his neck. I grew close enough so that my lips brushed ever so lightly against his ear, and I felt him tremble beneath me, "you want me to watch my tongue? Make me," I whispered before removing myself completely from his space just in time to see the color rise to his cheeks._

_I won._

_The moment he lunged for me, ready to admit defeat and ravage me with kisses, I pulled away from him and walked back out toward the street. That was part of the fun. We knew each other well enough to know what made the other tick. I knew how to get under his skin, and he knew how to get under mine. I knew that not allowing him to kiss me was my way of building up that tension. The lust within him would continue burning until we were alone that night, until I was able to lose myself in him and him in me. Before I could walk along the sidewalk alone, he resumed his place by my side, and I looped my arm through his once he offered it to me. We walked along, falling in perfect stride with one another, as if nothing had happened, but we would remember it later. The tension never died, but it just became like a smoldering fire, which would continue to burn until we extinguished it._

_As we walked, we passed by a man and woman, and I noticed the rings on their fingers, symbolizing their eternal love, which was something Loki and I had talked about from time to time. The woman was pushing a baby carriage, and within it, there was a baby who looked no older than 3 months. He was dressed in a little blue outfit that matched his blue eyes. His hair was light, and his skin was fair, much like Thor's. I smiled into the carriage, feeling my heart flip within my chest as my sudden urges came to light once more. I could feel Loki tense up next to me, and I knew why. It was something we had only talked about briefly, but I knew he wanted that life just as much as I did. His grip on me tightened, and I could feel his eyes lingering on me, so I turned my gaze up to meet his. He smiled down at me so sweetly, just like he used to when we first fell in love. The thoughts crossed his mind, and he didn't even need to say a single word because I could always read him like an open book, "You know what my answer would be," I stated, grasping his arm with my free hand. We had already been in the stage of our relationship where we wanted to get married, but we were also coming to the stage where we were both thinking about what would come next: a family._

_He sighed, gazing once more at the baby in the carriage before gazing back down at me, "father has always treated me poorly, and he's never been particularly kind to you. I can't imagine what he would think of our…" he trailed off, his eyes beginning to water as soon as he even thought of the word. It was a difficult thing for either of us to think about. I was abandoned by my parents, and Odin never treated Loki as one of his own from the very beginning._

"_Children, Loki," I finished for him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze to regain his attention. Once his mind wandered, so did his eyes. Once our eyes locked, I knew that he was focused on me, "they would be our children and ours __alone__," I reminded him, wanting him to understand what I had already accepted. I didn't have to follow in my mother's footsteps, and I __wouldn't__. I would love my children endlessly, and I would __never__ abandon them, not like my parents did to me. Loki's fears and insecurities were justified because he was terrified of being the father to our children that his father was to him. As upsetting as it was to think that he was self-conscious about failing our future children, I always silenced his doubts about __everything__ as soon as they arose, "you would be the most __incredible __father, in spite of how you were treated by your own father."_

_Once I said my piece, he fell absolutely silent. I gazed up at him, trying desperately to decipher him. There were moments when he was an open book to me, but there were others where he was like a puzzle with dozens of pieces missing, and I became more and more stressed because I couldn't figure it out. There was the alternative method of reading his mind, his thoughts, but that was something I saved for only the most dire circumstances. He was my lover, my soulmate, my best friend, not my experiment. I couldn't just pull apart his mind whenever I felt like it to get answers to a question I didn't want to bother him with. It was my job to read him as any woman would read her love, the way I had read Loki all along. When our eyes met, I knew exactly what he was thinking, as if it were painted across his blue eyes. He was picturing them. A wide smile spread across my face, "the first one would be a little girl, a little princess. I imagine her with your hair, wild and unruly and black as a shadow at night," I murmured, my eyes flickering between his._

_He snickered, "my hair is __not__ unruly!" he defended himself, acting as if he had been terribly offended at my comments about his wild and unruly hair, which it __was__._

_I cocked an eyebrow, ready to challenge him, "have I simply imagined the times when you struggle to brush it out and keep it in place in the morning?" I asked, a sly grin taking over the smile on my lips, "have I imagined the dozens of times when you beg me to brush it because only I can undo the tangled mess that you manage to get it into throughout the night? You always go to sleep with perfect, silky, beautiful hair-and I know because I brush it and look after it-but you wake up the next morning as if you fought four wars all on your own in the middle of the night," I teased him, grinning up at the man who owned every piece of my heart. We hadn't lost that spark between us. Sure, we argued with each other and had our fair share of disagreements, but we had been together for hundreds of years, so we knew how to make it work through all of that. Still, no matter what, I always looked at him as the boy I fell in love with. I still got butterflies when I talked to him. I still blushed when he paid me a compliment or looked at me for a prolonged period of time. I still giggled when he called me beautiful. _

"_That's __only__ because of you!" he argued, raising his voice only slightly. He wouldn't yell at me, but he was clearly trying to defend his wild and messy hair. Whenever I closed my eyes and imagined our future children, though, they always had his hair. My hair was dark, but his was exceptionally dark. His hair was darker than the forest on a dark night when the stars didn't even shine through the trees. The darkness would envelope me, and I wouldn't be able to see my hands had they been directly in front of my face. Each of our future children, as I saw them, had his wild hair. It would fall in curls, and they would all wear it the way he did: long. His light chuckle pulled me from my daydream, "you keep me up far too late, or have I simply imagined the times I've nearly fallen asleep at the breakfast table with my mother?"_

_My mouth hung agape as I recalled one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, "that-!" I stammered, trying to find a way to defend myself. It was true that it was my doing which left him embarrassed at the breakfast table with Frigga, and it was the moment she understood how deep our relationship was, how serious we were about each other, "that happened __one__ time, and it was only because you wouldn't stop looking at me the way you are right now!" I blamed him with a smirk as our eyes met once more. Mine danced along his face before I lost myself in the oceans of blue that pooled up against the dark pupils of his eyes, like land masses that felt like home._

_His eyes flickered between mine, and his smile fell. The solemnity that overcame his feature worried me for a moment as I wondered if I had gone too far; however, when I saw the tears well up in his eyes, I knew that he was thinking about them. He thought about them just as often as I did, even though he didn't like to admit it, "they would have your eyes," he murmured, pulling me closer to him, "a green that matched the colors of spring when the land is reborn after the cold winter, a green that feels like the warm breeze in the middle of the forest when it ripples through the leaves, a green that feels like home. They would wear that same look in their eyes, too. They would have that determination and ferocity but also the love and appreciation of life and all living things. They would have your nose, your cheekbones...your __laugh__ because Gods know there is nothing sweeter or more poetic and beautiful than the sound of your laugh," he said, tearing up at the thought of our future children. I knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that he would be the best father to our children, and I knew because he loved them already, just like I did._

_I stopped completely, not wanting him to focus on anything but me. I reached up and grasped his chin in my hand before turning his head until our eyes met, "I have told you for hundreds of years that all you have to do is ask me, and I'll be yours for the rest of eternity, Loki," I reminded him, knowing that all he would have to do is ask for my hand, and I would accept his offer in a heartbeat. He didn't have to write a speech or plan an elaborate proposal because he was the only thing that mattered._

"_I'm just worried that I could never be able to offer you all that you want in life," he murmured, his eyes acting as windows into his very soul. I knew that he always felt unworthy of me, of the love I gave to him, like he didn't deserve me. It was the same way I felt at certain times in our relationship, when I wondered why someone who could have anyone or anything he wanted would choose me. He always silenced those doubts, and I did the same with him._

_I shook my head, "all I want is __you__," I insisted once more, grasping his hand in my own as I gazed up into those uncertain blue eyes, "I want to marry you and start a family. I want to see you with our baby, to watch you hold him or her, to watch you fall in love with the way they laugh, the way they dance, the way they look at you. I want to raise children with you, however many we decide. I want to get up early in the morning and rock our baby to sleep and be reminded that they are the product of the two of us, that we created something that was bigger than ourselves, that our love created life," I reminded him, my eyes stinging with the hot tears as I thought of a life we had yet to begin. I watched as his eyes brimmed with tears, and I gave his hand a gentle squeeze "we've been together for hundreds of years, and you have given me all that I could ever want and all I could ever need, but __that __is the one thing that's missing. I want that life with you and no one else," I finished, stepping closer to him._

"_That's what you want?" he asked, his focus becoming firm, and I knew that he would be focusing on picking out any hints that I was being dishonest, as if I would even try to with him after so long together._

_I nodded, "it's what I've __always __wanted."_

_He nodded once, continuing to gaze down at me. Upon seeing that I wasn't trying to mislead him, his gaze lightened, and he gathered me in his arms in one swift motion. I gasped at the sudden and unexpected action, but before I could speak, his lips crushed mine, silencing whatever words I was about to utter. He kept my body pressed to his firmly but not aggressively. His hold on me was all encompassing as his right arm snaked around my waist, arching my body into his. The fingers of his left hand caressed my cheek and jaw, holding me steady as we kissed. The moment he pulled his lips from mine, it was as if my very breath left with him. Luckily, he didn't let go of me, or I was sure I would have fallen to the ground. He pulled his head back only slightly to take in my reaction to what just happened, but I had no words, no emotion to give. He took my breath away with that kiss, and it felt like we were at the very beginning of our courtship once more, like we were still naive lovers who saw nothing but one another._

_Without warning, he began laughing lightly at what had just transpired. Had we put our love on full display in the streets of Asgard, Odin would have forced the two of us away from each other. It would have been improper for him and unladylike for me. However, on Midgard, people seemed to pass by without taking much notice. Of course, I could still feel eyes on us because it was still a rarity, but we would not be punished for a kiss. I saw, once more, the boy I fell in love with, my Loki. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn't able to contain my laughter once he began laughing. Rolling my eyes, I turned on my heel and pulled him along, "come on, love. We don't want to miss the expo. It's the whole reason we came here," I reminded him as we walked toward the crowds of people._

_Upon reaching the large groups of people, we began making our way to the front of the stage in the pavillion where we saw the most commotion. Everyone was talking, and the buzzing of life around me left me with a euphoric feeling in my chest. Warmth spread from the depths of my chest all throughout my body, leaving me gasping for the sweet air to fill my needy lungs. I loved the sensation of life, the vibrations of the energy around me. Loki's hand found mine, and he intertwined our finger, his fear of large groups becoming more and more clear. Whenever he needed to find his footing once more, he reached out to me, and I was always there. His grip on my hand tightened whenever the noise in the pavillion increased, and I accommodated it by pulling the two of us closer together. I knew where his fear and anxiety stemmed from, and I would always comfort him when that was what he needed._

_Once we reached the front of the stage, we watched as young women in matching outfits lined up in front of a car. Shortly after Loki and I took our place, another man with two young women at his side broke through the crowd and stood beside Loki and I. The man in the group was tall and built like a warrior. I took note of the uniform that seemed to hang from his broad shoulders and knew that he was one of Midgard's soldiers. He smiled up at the stage as the two girls beside him began conversing amongst themselves in their excitement for what was to unfold. Trailing behind them was a smaller man, but I could feel the vibrations within me begin to grow stronger and stronger the closer he grew to me, and I just __knew__ there was something about him, something I couldn't place my finger on. Our souls were connected somehow, similarly to how mine was connected to the souls of Loki, Ephinea, Hjalmar, and my father. I didn't even know his name, but I knew his soul._

_The taller of the two men glanced over at me, a playfulness in his eyes that matched Loki's, and I knew that it was a light the world so desperately needed. He smiled down at me, though I was only slightly shorter than him, "good evening, ma'am," he greeted me with a tip of his hat before turning his attention to Loki and doing the same, "sir," he greeted politely, causing the God of Mischief to bow his head in a friendly greeting._

_I stepped closer to the young man, breaking away from Loki's side and feeling a chill run through my body at the sudden lack of warmth he brought me, "you can call me Eva, and this is Loki. He's not much of a talker until you mention literature," I laughed, gesturing over to Loki before offering my hand._

_The soldier took it and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of my hand. I knew it was what was considered respectful and courteous at the time. Loki still did it to me when we were in the company of others. The soldier lifted his head and released my hand, "it's a pleasure to meet you, Eva," he stated before turning his attention over to Loki once more and sticking out his hand for him to take, "Loki...that's not a common name," he noted, trying out the name on his tongue._

_Loki chuckled, "I'm not a common man," he replied as he took the soldier's hand and shook it._

"_The name's James, but most people just call me Bucky," the soldier finally introduced himself before turning to the shorter man beside him, "and this is Steve, he's like my unruly, rebellious sidekick who likes to look for trouble," he teased his friend with a wide smile._

_I smiled and stepped closer to the newly introduced stranger, "it's nice to meet you, Steve," I replied, reaching my hand out. Instead of taking it and kissing it, he just gave it a quick shake, and I could tell that he was nervous about the sudden introductions. The moment our hands touched, an electric current surged through my body, as if a piece of his very essence was transferred to me and a piece of mine was transferred to him. It was a strange occurrence, an event that had only happened a small handful of times in the past, but it always forged a powerful connection to the person it happened with. The energy surged through me as I felt his essence intertwine with mine, pieces of our souls coming together to form one. I wondered, for a moment, if he felt the same thing or something similar, and the sudden wonder in his eyes told me that he had experienced it as well._

_He tried to shake off the awkward silence between us, his cheeks becoming flushed, "So, where are you two from? Your accents sound...foreign," he asked, trying to propel the conversation forward after a powerful experience we both shared._

"_Smooth," Bucky teased him as he gazed up at the stage that was continuing to be prepared._

_I smiled, "it's alright. We're from Westminster in England," I lied, recalling a place Loki and I had visited dozens of times in the past. It's not like I could tell him the truth, that Loki and I were from a completely different realm altogether, that there was life beyond Midgard. They would discover our existence at some point during the course of humanity, but it didn't need to be today, "what about you? Where are you from?"_

"_Brooklyn," he answered with a kind smile. It was clear that not many people gave him the time of day, but I wanted to. I wanted to learn everything about him because I was certain he would play a large part in my life. He gestured between Loki and I, "and you two are...married?" he asked, and I could sense the boyish bashfulness rising within him._

_Bucky snickered, "wow, how subtle," he teased Steve again._

"_Not yet," Loki answered before I had the chance to speak._

_I furrowed my eyebrows at his confession, taken aback by his answer. Steve and Bucky raised their eyebrows as well, but I knew that their surprise came from the forwardness of it. They didn't know Loki like I did. I knew that he was rather bold, but I just never expected that answer because I didn't know if he truly wanted to marry me the same way I did him. We had been together for more than a millenia. We'd seen so much history, and he still hadn't asked me to marry him. I cocked an eyebrow, "should I be expecting a question __soon__, or will I be waiting another thousand years?" I asked, teasing him about how long it had already taken him._

_Bucky and Steve both laughed in unison, thinking that I was exaggerating the length of time I had been waiting. It was only slightly exaggerated, since our thousand year milestone wouldn't happen for another 67 years. Loki's grin at me caused my heart to flutter as I thought of how and when he would do it. After a short amount of banter between the four of us, Loki and Bucky began having their own conversation, leaving Steve and I with a comfortable silence that fell between the two of us. As we gazed up at the stage together in anticipation for the upcoming show that was sure to be put on, I could feel his eyes on me. Loki made a habit of doing the same thing early in our childhood, before he even began courting me, but it remained something he did even after so long together. He would always watch me. It was never in a way that made me uncomfortable, but it was the same reason I watched him, to memorize every little piece of him, how the rays of the sun sat so delicately upon his eyelashes, how his slender fingers would swim through his raven black hair when he pushed it back into place, how every smile started at one corner of his mouth, how the tears rimmed his perfect blue eyes whenever he read something I wrote for him, or how his eyebrows pulled together in fascination whenever he looked at me. I committed every piece of him to memory just in case there was a day when he wasn't mine, when his body returned home. Though I wished for us to meet our end together, I knew that one of us would outlive the other, and my selfish dream was that he would be the one to do so. I couldn't bear a life without him, so even if he went before me, I wouldn't be far behind._

_As I felt Steve's eyes on me, I also felt the familiar warmth of Loki's gaze as well. His conversation with Bucky had become a conversation about me, and my suspicions were confirmed when I felt the unfamiliar eyes of the soldier on me again. I glanced over at Steve in an attempt to keep myself from blushing at the attention that I was getting. As soon as I turned my head to interact with Steve, our eyes connected, and a blush rose to his cheeks almost immediately. It was exactly what happened when Loki and I first began our relationship. He would be caught in the act of studying me, and his cheeks would flush with color in his bashfulness. It became less of an occurrence the longer we were together, but there were times when it presented itself once more. Steve glanced down at the ground, trying to seem like he wasn't watching me only seconds prior. I smiled to myself, thinking about how endearing it was, but what he did next was even more shocking and endearing. He extended his hand with the paper bag filled with popcorn in an attempt to offer some to me._

_That was the moment I knew._

_That was the single moment I figured out exactly who Steve was, almost as if I could see straight into his very soul. It was one of the purest, most beautiful things I had ever seen in all my life. The innocence and innate goodness he had within him made me want to cry. There were only a handful of moments in my life that left me so emotionally overwhelmed, whether by the sheer beauty I witnessed or sorrow I felt, that left me unable to contain my tears. That was one of those moments. It felt like Steve and I were just made to find our way to one another, like we were created for the soul purpose to run into each other at some point, but the reason was unclear. With Loki, our bond with each other was clear, but with Steve, I didn't understand it. Why us? Why him? As I tried to sort through it, he maintained his outstretched hand. I gave a polite nod and collected a few of the pieces of popcorn, maintaining eye contact with him and trying to suppress the smile that only continued to grow on my face._

_Knowing that the only way to silence the parade of questions through my mind was to talk to him, I ate the popcorn in my hand and spoke, "what are you doing out here on a night like tonight? What brings you to the expo?" I asked, looking for any way to stop falling into a platonic type of love with him. It was the strangest, most unexpected feeling, but I could feel the love within me growing for him with every passing second. It was as if my soul recognized his, and I couldn't help it._

_He shrugged his shoulders, "well, it's Bucky's last night as a free man before he ships out. You know, he's my best friend in the world, so when he wanted me to come out, how could I say no?" he asked, trying to minimize his act of kindness toward his friend. He forced himself to be uncomfortable just to make his friend happy. That was love, pure and untainted love. I smiled as he continued, "it's not really my cup of tea, though. I'm not really into crowds, but I know it'll make Bucky happy."_

_Nodding my head, I reached out and grasped his arm, "everyone needs someone like that in their lives. He's lucky to have you."_

_He shook his head, not fully convinced by my words, "I think it's the other way around. I'd be nowhere without Bucky. He's the only family I have left after my mom died. He's like a brother to me. I owe him everything. The least I could do was come out with him tonight," he spoke, his voice soft and full of sincerity. Suddenly, a wide smile formed on his lips and he cast his gaze to the ground once more as a blush overcame his cheeks, "I mean, I got to meet you out of the deal, so it wasn't all bad," he complimented me with a quivering voice before trying to laugh off his clear embarrassment. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as I realized just how genuine the compliment was, and I couldn't help but step closer to him. It wasn't a romantic gesture, and I didn't take his compliment as a flirtatious one; all I wanted was to feel closer to the warmth his very essence provided. He was like the light of the sun-all encompassing, bright, and warm._

_Before I could respond to Steve's remark, the voice of a female announcer silenced the crowd, "ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Howard Stark!" she announced, her voice leaving the audience even more lively than before. As the crowd began to cheer and applaud, the man who I presumed to be Howard Stark, the man of the hour, sauntered onto the stage wearing a tuxedo, a top hat, and a grin. The women on the stage all presented him, holding their arms out as he passed by them. One of the brunette girls stepped out of line to take his hat and trade off the microphone she had in her hand. As he took it, he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her close before pressing his lips to hers in a quick, suggestive kiss. Once he wiped the lipstick from his lips, he spoke into the microphone, his voice echoing throughout the calming crowd, "ladies and gentlemen, what if I told you that in just a few short years, your automobile won't even have to touch the ground at all?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow._

_The two girls Bucky and Steve arrived with were two of the many people in the audience who covered their mouths and gasped. Loki and I shot a knowing glance at one another that this was no new technology to us, as Asgardians had perfected similar technology so long ago. However, it was a remarkable achievement for Midgardians to be making. I turned my gaze back at Howard Stark as the women who once stood in front of the car pulled the wheels off of it and walked away with them. He glanced out at the audience, holding the microphone up to his lips, "with Stark gravitic reversion technology, you'll be able to do just that," he promised before stepping aside and allowing everyone in the audience a clear view of the spectacle that was about to take place. With the flip of a switch and the press of a button, the car began hovering above the stage with a gentle hum. I glanced around at the small group I was with to see that everyone wore looks of pure astonishment at the idea of flying cars. No matter how advanced our technology was, Loki was still impressed by the humans, just as I was. They showed great promise, and that was one of the many reasons why we swore to protect them._

_Howard's eyes scanned the crowd as he looked truly proud of what he had accomplished. I watched him intently as everyone else watched the car. All I could do was study how his pride grew more and more as he witnessed what kind of reactions he could elicit with his own genius. Suddenly, without warning, his eyes connected with mind, and his scanning of the audience stopped as those brown orbs focused on me. They felt familiar, like we had met before, like I knew him from another lifetime. I sensed something within these humans that felt surreal, like I could have been dreaming it. I had such an intense connection already to Steve, and I knew Bucky on a level that should have been impossible, given that we had only spoken a handful of words to one another. Then, there was Howard. All we shared was a prolonged moment of eye contact, but something within me came to life in that moment, and I knew that this would be the beginning of something. What that something was, though, I had no clue. All I knew was that Howard and I-like Steve and I, or like Bucky and I-would be bound by a silken cord that was strong as a chain of steel that would never break._

_The one thing that pulled our gaze from each other was the sudden crash that came from behind him, and my eyes found the car now on the floor where it had once been hovering over. The crowd gasped but slowly started to clap, and I did the same. It was a true accomplishment, regardless of how long the car managed to hover. He was the first Midgardian to discover that technology, and while there was no way he would be the last to tamper with it, he made waves on that night. He chuckled into the microphone, laughing off his "failure" before speaking, "I did say a few years, didn't I?" he asked, his eyes flickering to mine again before winking at me._

_As the expo continued, Howard showed off more impressive technology that he was working on, but nothing was more impressive than his persistence, considering he didn't even know who I was. Every chance he got, it seemed like he caught my gaze, and the playfulness would sneak into his brown orbs. I could sense a childlike wonder about him, something I hadn't experienced much, especially not with the Midgardians. However, Howard seemed to exude those playful, childlike qualities just as much as his confidence and self-assured attitude. Once Howard's portion of the expo was finished and the crowd applauded him, I felt the sudden absence of Steve's warmth as he broke away from the group without a word. I wondered to myself if something had happened that upset him, or if he just needed to be alone. Bucky smiled to himself, "hey, Steve, what do you say we treat these girls to…" his voice trailed off as he turned around to see that Steve was no longer present. He sighed to himself, and I could sense his distress. I knew that he only wanted a night with his friend, especially considering the hell he was about to walk into._

_Then, there were screams._


	14. Twice Upon the 40's

_The sudden gasp and subsequent screaming that erupted from the crowd pulled the immediate attention of both Loki and myself, with Bucky not far behind. I glanced over at Loki, and he nodded, agreeing with me that we would do whatever it took to protect the Midgardians, regardless of what it cost us. We would be discovered, but that would be a small price to pay compared to the alternative. As my eyes scanned the crowd to detect the danger, I quickly realized that there was none. The gasps and screams were because of the man of the hour's decision to jump off the stage and walk over to Loki, Bucky, and I. By the time I processed what was happening, Howard stood directly in front of me. A charming smile tugged at his lips, and he cocked an eyebrow at me, "is it just me, or did I feel some electricity between us?" he asked, not holding back like Loki did when he was first trying to flirt with me._

_I snickered, "no, I think it was just you," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest, "those are rather brilliant plans for a hovercar, though, it'll be revolutionary in the years to come."_

_He shrugged his shoulders, "yeah, once I manage to get it airborne and __keep__ it that way," he noted, glancing around at Loki and Bucky before his eyes locked on mine again, "what do you say I run another brilliant plan by you?"_

_My interest was piqued, and my eyes flickered over to Loki to see that he was rather amused by how reckless, spontaneous, and forward Howard was. To jump off the stage to simply talk to me was something I would've pictured Loki doing with me, but we had also been together for nearly a millennium. Seeing how amused he was by Howard, I entertained the technological genius more, raising an eyebrow at him, "I'm interested," I stated, urging him to continue._

_He stepped closer to me, and in that moment, I felt a pang of jealousy rush through Loki, but it didn't last long at all. He knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that my heart belonged solely to him, that no other man could hold it the way he did, that I had no interest in being romantically involved with anyone else. Still, there was that moment of doubt that we both had from time to time. He never felt worthy of me, and he often voiced his concerns that I would someday realize that I could do better than him. Every single time he voiced those concerns, I silenced them with a kiss and reminded him just how much I loved him. I couldn't even imagine a life without him, especially if I __chose__ to live my life without him by my side. Once the jealousy wore off, I focused my eyes back on Howard's brown ones, "well, the first step of this master plan is to get you to come dancing with me, and the rest is a surprise. So...what do you say?" he asked, a level of confidence once again exuding from his body as he spoke to me._

_I leaned closer, "if you can tell me my name, I'll agree to it," I remarked in a low voice, astounded that he would ask me on a date without even putting in the effort of getting to know my first name. As I pulled back, I smirked, knowing that he wouldn't be able to give me the answer. In that moment, I didn't care if we shared a "connection" or not. His self-righteousness left a sour taste in my mouth. It was as if he felt entitled to take me out dancing. He honestly believed that I would agree to go anywhere with him when he put in close to no effort, and that was a bit frustrating to me, especially since he was doing this in front of Loki, a man who constantly put effort into our relationship._

_Howard opened his mouth as if he were hoping that the name would just fall right out of the sky and into his lap. I cocked an eyebrow, suddenly more amused than I had been throughout the entire night. He caused a panic, and a piece of me wanted to watch him squirm for that. I heard Loki mumble something to Bucky before the soldier began to speak, "well, __Eva__, Loki and I were talking about the two of you joining Steve and I for dancing, since you were planning on going anyway. It wouldn't hurt to add one more to the group," he said, putting stress on my name._

_I shot a playful glare at him, my eyes connecting with his mischievous blue ones. I knew that Loki had a hand to play in his "betrayal," but I couldn't be upset with him, especially when it was all in good fun. My eyes flickered back over to Howard's, and he wore a triumphant grin, much like Thor when he returned from a victorious battle, "well, I guess we should get going, __Eva__," he pressed, holding out his arm for me to take._

_Stepping away from him, I gestured around at the small group we had formed during the expo, "I'll meet you outside. I'd like to find Steve before we head out," I stated before casting a knowing glance at Loki. He knew how important the Midgardians were to me in general, and I knew he felt the connection to Steve and Bucky just as I had. The two of us existed in perfect harmony with one another. We weren't exactly the same, but we were different enough where we still existed beautifully together. There was no dissonance in our relationship, so I could hear and feel every subtle change within him. I knew that he felt a strong connection to Steve and Bucky, that he would treasure their existence for as long as he lived. Then, there was Howard. Our connection to him was strong but strained at the same time. I knew there were layers of Howard, and I desperately wanted to peel them back to see who he was on the inside, raw and vulnerable. There was no way he was the man he portrayed himself to be. There was so much more to him, and I would discover it sooner or later._

_As I broke away from the group, I wandered around the expo, following the vibrations within me. There was a certain feeling I had the closer I got to Steve, and I just followed it the stronger it became. The closer I grew to him, the warmer I became, the more my heart swelled to accommodate the beauty that was Steve's very essence. By the time I found him, he was outside, and I found my spot right next to him. Standing in complete silence, I studied the perfect lines of his face, never wanting to forget him even if I never saw him again. He gazed up at the stars in the sky, the depth of the night threatening to swallow him whole, but he didn't look small in that moment; he looked sure and determined-about what, I did not know. The moon and stars reflected perfectly in his deep blue eyes, and I found the reflection far more beautiful than the real thing. For a moment, I wondered what my home would look like through his eyes. Would the reflection be even more beautiful?_

_After a short time gazing up at the stars with him, I interrupted the comfortable silence that fell between us, "we're all going out dancing. I assume Bucky and Loki talked about it, and they decided we should all just go together. Would you like to join us?" I asked._

_He shook his head, a stray piece of golden hair falling from its perfect position, "I don't think anyone wants to witness my dancing. I'd probably step on your toes anyway," he joked, trying to laugh off his clear discomfort. It was clear that he wasn't given much attention, so the smallest amount was enough to make him squeamish. There was something deeply troubling about that, especially since I sensed nothing but goodness within him._

"_Well, as long as I can step on your toes a few times, we'll make a great pair," I laughed, trying to lighten the situation between us. He smiled up at me before turning his attention back up to the stars. I could tell that something was weighing on his mind, but I would respect his privacy and leave his mind alone. I cleared my throat, looking back up at the stars with him. Tears filled my eyes involuntarily as I felt a sense of loss deep within my soul. There would be no changing his mind on dancing, and I had a strange feeling that this would be a goodbye. I couldn't see his future, but I could feel the path he was on, and I was uncertain if ours would ever cross again. I swallowed hard, trying to force away the sorrow I felt. Even though there were hardly any words spoken between the two of us, there was an emotional connection I felt with him that became a part of who I was. Our souls were intertwined in a way that I couldn't possibly describe, even with all my experience. My hand came up to rest on his shoulder, and I gave it a light squeeze, "I can see right through you, Steve Rogers. You have a kind soul, a warrior's soul. You're going to do great and amazing things," I murmured words that would remain sacred between just the two of us._

_He remained completely silent for what seemed like hours. Time between us passed so slowly, almost as if the universe itself were bending to give us more time together, almost as if she also knew that we would never have this again. I watched as every emotion passed over his face before only one remained: bewilderment. Finally, he worked up the courage to lock his gaze with mine, "every other woman brushes me off like I'm a pest, but...now, you come along, some beautiful stranger, and you treat me like a human being. Why? Why you? Why now?" he asked the question that looked to be on his mind from our very first interaction. He wasn't used to kindness from strangers because he was different, and I knew how isolating that treatment could be._

_I sighed, "I know what it's like to be the outsider, one of the people living on the outskirts of society, and I can sense that you know what that's like as well. It's a feeling I would never wish on anyone, not even my worst enemy. I have...a gift of sorts," I confessed, not wanting to get too in-depth with him. I couldn't sacrifice my frequent visits to Midgard just because I wanted to make myself known to too many people. There had been others who knew about Loki and I, people from hundreds of years prior, but as technology improved and gossip spread like a wildfire, I became more cautious. Telling Steve everything would be overwhelming for him, and that was the last thing I wanted to do, "I can feel the very essence of who you are, Steve. I felt a connection the moment I saw you. You are meant to do wonderful, selfless, heroic things, and I could feel that you will do them for the good of humanity. I don't know you like James knows you, but I know you in a different way, almost like we've met before in another lifetime. Deep down, you feel it, too, do you not?" I asked, my voice as tender as I could make it._

_He nodded his head, remaining silent as he tried to piece together how I could've known something like that, "I know the type of person you are, Steve, and I can feel the person you will become. Your purpose is to fight for what is right and good, to fight for what you believe in. My purpose is to show love and commit myself to bettering the lives of those around me. Every life is beautiful, magical, filled with this radiance that I cannot explain, and I believe in preserving that as best I can. You embody everything I believe in, so in turn, I believe in __you__," I confessed before watching his eyes flicker over to the recruitment center in the distance._

_The determination in his eyes was so clear. It was the same look I had when I watched my father leave for battle. I wanted to go with him, to fight alongside him. While I didn't appreciate violence, I believed in fighting when it was necessary for what was right. Steve's eyes filled with that same passion, "it'll happen this time," he insisted, almost like he was also trying to convince himself of it._

_I nodded my head, "I hope with all my heart that our paths cross again someday," I murmured, my voice close to quivering with my unchecked emotions. Before then, even my closest Midgardian allies didn't find a home in my heart as fast as Steve had. I forced a smile once his eyes locked with mine for the last time, "promise me that even in your moments of doubt, fear, and insecurity, you'll remember that there's someone out there who believes in you, who is rooting for you, who wants nothing but the very best for you. Promise me that you'll remember the people who care about you, the people who think about you, who fall asleep with undying hope that you'll be safe because I'll be thinking of you for the rest of my life. I'll be thinking of the man who would've let me step on his toes," I laughed, trying to lighten the mood before I started to get emotional._

_He nodded his head, his eyes glossed over with tears, "I promise to think of you, too," he insisted with a wide smile, "I mean, how could I ever __forget __a woman like you?"_

_I reached out and grasped his right shoulder with my right hand, my arm crossing between the two of us. I gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, much like how Loki, Thor, Ephinea, or Hjalmar did to me before battle. It was a sign of respect, and it was also a way of saying farewell in other circumstances. My heart thudded in my chest as I thought of leaving, but I couldn't stay, "farewell, Steve Rogers," I murmured before stepping away from him._

"_Goodbye, Eva," he whispered, as if he was accepting whatever fate had in store for him. I knew war. I knew how many lives were claimed by violence, and I couldn't be naive and think that he would somehow overcome all the odds and survive it all. I believed in him, but I also had to be realistic._

_As I walked away, I tucked every second I had with him into the back of my mind, knowing that I would pull them up at random when I wanted to smile. The group I was going out dancing with was waiting right outside the entrance to the expo, so it wasn't difficult to find them at all. The most difficult part was forcing myself to let go of Steve so that my thoughts didn't ruin the rest of the night. Loki and I didn't frequent Midgard as often as we wanted to, but when we did, we tried to make the very best out of it. As soon as I reached the group, I linked arms with Loki, smiled up at him, and we proceeded to follow Howard and Bucky to what Howard claimed was the "best spot in town."_

_Once we reached the dancehall, the music, life, and joy in that room left me in yet another state of euphoria. The moment Bucky opened the door for the rest of us to proceed inside, I grabbed Loki's hand and pulled him out onto the dancefloor, listening to that angelic laugh escape his lips. Upon reaching the dance floor, Loki spun me around and danced in tandem with me, and the world melted away. All that was left was the two of us, our hopes, our dreams, our love. Bucky and Howard soon made their way onto the dancefloor with the two girls who had once accompanied Bucky and Steve. They were timid girls, and I knew that it was still the custom on Midgard. There would come a day when they would be able to speak and be heard, when their loud, boisterous voices would take up the dancehall, when they could yell from the top of the mountains. Asgard wasn't too different, but we made strides far before Midgard. There were staunch differences between our two worlds, but we were similar in that everything else was improved before we started to look at prejudices. Just as Asgard improved, I had hope that Midgard wouldn't be too far behind. Nevertheless, the girls followed Howard and Bucky out onto the dancefloor and laughed with them as they began dancing._

_My eyes turned to Loki's deep blue ones that sparked to life the moment they connected with mine, "you bring the color to my life, Eva, I hope you know that," he whispered, the words rolling gently from his lips like a silken waterfall._

_I stepped closer to him, "I know that look. You want something," I realized aloud with a smirk tugging at my lips._

_He matched my sudden mischievous attitude with a grin of his own, "only you, darling," he replied, continuing to dance like we were the only two people in the room. He spun me around and led me at the perfect pace. Loki had such an artistic soul within him. He loved to paint, draw, write, sing, and he __especially__ loved to dance. He had an undeniable talent when it came to the arts, but he danced with such fluid motions, and I was always left in awe of the beauty he created. Loki's love of dancing stemmed from our childhood. I learned to wield a sword at a young age, and my father always told me to think of it like a dance, like every move I made with the sword was an extension of myself. When Loki and I trained together, I sensed his discomfort when it came to combat, so I used the same words my father used with me. My favorite moments were when Loki would pick me out of a crowded ballroom, walk over to me, and hold out his hand as an invitation to dance with him._

_As we continued to dance, I noticed his eyes flicker to a scene going on over my shoulder. A frown overcame his lips, and I felt his heart sink. My eyebrows instinctually furrowed as I desperately tried to figure out what was wrong. I craned my head, seeing that Bucky was making his way off the dancefloor after only a few songs to sit down with Howard. The girls they had arrived with were nowhere to be seen, and I assumed that they had called it a night and retired home. Glancing back up at Loki, I pulled him closer, our bodies slowing down to nothing more than a gentle sway. His grief still didn't diminish, so I reached up and cupped his face in my hands, stroking his cheeks with my thumbs, "what's on your mind, my love?" I asked._

_He sighed, looking for the right words to say. Usually, Loki had a silver tongue, and he rarely fell victim to speechlessness; however, as he fished for the words, I noticed that he was experiencing distress over Bucky's retreat from the dancefloor. I brushed his raven hair back, tucking a few of the stray pieces behind his ears. He reached up and grasped my hand, turning his face into it and pressing a firm kiss into the palm of my hand. Once he released it, I rested it against his chest as one of his free hands, snaked between us so that his fingers could dance along my jawline as we spoke, "dancing with you, holding you close to me, makes me feel more alive than the adrenaline during battle. Every man deserves to feel that way at least once in their life, the same joy and freedom they could have while holding you. James will be going into battle tomorrow and could very well die a warrior's death. This is his final night as a free man. I shouldn't be selfish with you," he realized aloud as his cheeks flushed with color. Loki didn't blush often, but when he did, they were some of the more endearing moments I had with him._

_My heart filled with so much pride in the man I loved, a man I someday wished to call my husband. Loki and I lived as if we were married, but we had yet to make it official. There was a side of him that not many people could see, a side he often didn't let others see because it would force him to be vulnerable, which scared him. Loki had been hurt too many times to count, so the thought of opening up was dreadful for him. The man in front of me in that very moment was one I knew better than I knew myself. He was willing to be selfless if it meant that one of the Midgardian's would know happiness. He treasured them just as much as I did, doing everything in his power to bring them harmony, joy, and peace. As the warmth spread through my heart, I draped my arm over his shoulder, my fingers stroking the back of his neck, entangling themselves into his wild black locks, "you have such a beautiful heart, Loki, and I'm the luckiest woman in all the Nine Realms to hold even a piece of it," I murmured, always baffled by how a man who radiated that much compassion and empathy could foster a love for me, a love I didn't think I deserved._

_He chuckled, "and all this time I believed that __I__ was the lucky one!" he exclaimed, causing my lips to pull up into a wide smile, "I'll sit out a few dances, so you and James can have some time together before the night comes to a close. Besides, I'll have you for the rest of the night once we get back to the hotel," he whispered, mischief peeking into his tone at the very end of his statement. I knew what awaited me back at the hotel, and the reminder of it only made the knot in my stomach tighten._

_I nodded and walked over to the table where Bucky and Howard sat as Loki approached the band, whispering a few words to them. They all seemed to nod in agreement to what Loki said, but I didn't listen in. Instead, I turned my attention to Bucky with a grin on my lips. When he caught my gaze, he rose to his feet, much more graciously than I had expected, but it was also much more urgent than I anticipated as well. He pulled off his hat that kept his hair tame, and, while it remained well kept, a piece of it fell from the rest and hung in front of his forehead. Without his hat on, he looked so much younger, like a child who was being shipped off to war, and I suddenly understood why Loki was doing this, "Sergeant Barnes, would you care to dance?" I asked, as Loki took a seat at the table with Howard, who looked to be slightly jealous of the question I proposed to Bucky._

_The soldier in front of me nodded his head stoically, as if I asked him if he wanted to jump off a bridge with me. I knew he hadn't anticipated me asking him to dance, especially when Loki and I were so smitten with each other all night. This was our only opportunity to be that way with each other because we were always under the watchful eyes of everyone in Asgard, especially Odin. However, neither Howard nor Bucky knew of that life. I reached out and took his hat from him, tossing it back onto the table before grabbing his hand and running out onto the dancefloor with the soldier trailing right behind me. As soon as we began dancing with each other, he loosened up, and a smile overcame his features. Bucky made for a beautiful dance partner, a man who could just feel what I was about to do or the move I was about to make, and he intercepted it with perfect timing. He moved with a fluidity that Loki did, but there was something even more beautiful about my connection with Bucky on the dancefloor. Loki and I had been together for nearly a thousand years, so we had all the time in the world to get to know each other-every little thing-so it made sense that we would exist in perfect harmony with one another. Bucky and I had only just met, yet the connection that formed between us was so strong that it rivaled the connection I had with Loki._

_The connection made it possible for me to sense that something was wrong, that he was preoccupied with thoughts of the future, "something's wrong. Tell me," I urged him, my voice lowering so that the words remained between us. I didn't want to call attention to our intimate moment._

_A look of shame crossed over his features because of what he was feeling, which was something we could all relate to-humans and Asgardians alike. I experienced it countless times. There were times when the situation called for me to be calm and collected, but I was filled with emotion, and that led to a lot of shame. There were times when I should have been more emotional and open, but I was closed off, which led to the same feeling of shame. Bucky cleared his throat, "I'm afraid," he answered simply, glancing around to see if anyone noticed what he had just confessed._

_I cocked my head, not completely understanding why he would be afraid. He seemed so collected and confident all night since the moment we met, but now, he was becoming more reserved. The moment he confessed to his fear, I could see it in his eyes clearly. I wanted to know more, though, "what is it you're afraid of?" I asked, nothing but curiosity seeping into my words. Even though my goal wasn't to pry, there was a chance that I could ease his conscience._

_He frowned, an expression that didn't belong on a face so beautiful and full of life, "I'm afraid of dying," he murmured in a voice that nearly trembled the way Steve did when we first met._

_As soon as he explained his fears, a chill ran through my entire body, starting at the very top of my head and ending at the very tip of my toes. The chill dragged along my back, my arms, and my chest as it spread throughout every piece of me. I knew war better than any Midgardian could. I had fought in hundreds of wars over my lifetime, including many that the Midgardians waged between each other, which seemed rather foolish at times. I knew what was lost in war, as I had lost some of my closest friends in battle, and in turn, I had lost pieces of myself. I knew that once you had witnessed war, there was no returning to the person you were before. Bucky was afraid of the unknown, of walking into his future without knowing if the ground beneath him was sturdy, or if he would fall through. The image of Bucky being one of the souls Death claims made my blood run cold. I shook my head, "you won't," I promised, trying to piece myself back together to keep the emotions from tearing me apart._

_His eyes filled with worry. I remembered that feeling. Every battle I ever rode into was met with that feeling, but it was heightened that first time. The first time Odin chose me as one of his warriors, I felt that same fear. It was a mix between anticipation, terror, reluctance, and a bit of excitement. There was a moment of asking oneself, "why did I agree to this?" However, once you crossed over that threshold, once you reached the battlefield, all of those emotions were washed away, and the adrenaline, the will to live and to protect your people came flooding in. Bucky sighed, "I might," he replied, his jaw clenching._

"_But you won't," I stressed to him, not wanting that thought to even cross his mind. In that very moment, looking up into blue eyes that would soon see all that humanity had lost, I made an internal promise to do whatever it took, absolutely anything, to protect him. My new purpose was to protect Bucky and Steve, to keep them safe and ensure that they lived their lives in a way that would make them happy. In that moment, I made them my responsibility. I reached up and stroked his perfect cheek with the tips of my fingers, wanting to remember this human for the rest of my life, "you can't go into this thinking that you're going to be one of the men who will fall on the battlefield. Don't accept death. Fight her all the way," I urged him, remembering the countless times she had waited on the edge of the battlefield for me, waiting for me to slip or make a single mistake that would grant her access to my soul._

_Bucky cleared his throat as the band began to play a slower tempo, "it's getting late," he noted, pulling away from me and glancing back over at the table where Howard and Loki looked to be deep in discussion._

"_Stay for just one more dance with me," I pleaded, grasping his strong hand in mine. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he turned back around to face me, his blue eyes clearly showing his discomfort. He wore every emotion on his face, and I was glad for that. It made reading him far easier. I stepped closer to him, our bodies brushing against each others and causing him to step away and create more space so that I would feel comfortable. His arm snaked around my waist, but he left a lot of unneeded space between the two of us. I smirked at his attempt to be a gentleman, "do you always hold your ladies like this?" I asked, calling attention to his delicate hand on my back and the amount of space he left between us._

"_Well, you're not one of my ladies. You're Loki's lady, and that man seems like he would tear me apart if I even looked at you for too long," he replied, imagining a completely different man than I had grown to know and love over my entire life._

_I snickered, "the only way Loki would hurt you is if you tried to hurt me. Loki's a peaceful soul, and he knows that my heart belongs to him, so he's not worried about a dance," I reassured him before I stepped closer to him once more. He accepted the lack of space, and his arm around me tightened slightly as we swayed back and forth with one another. The world began melting away as we danced. My cheek rested against his shoulder, and my eyes fluttered closed as I listened to his strong heartbeat. I felt the purity of his soul bleed into my own, and I realized that merely dancing with Bucky was enough to soothe and rejuvenate my soul. My body molded into his as his arm tightened around me ever so slightly. I knew he was afraid to hurt me, which I knew would be a difficult feat even if he tried. I pulled back just enough to gaze into his eyes, our face mere inches apart._

_His gaze softened once our eyes met, and our swaying slowed as he lost himself in thought. Even after the song ended, he continued to hold me close to him. His baby blue eyes turned solemn, and I knew that a goodbye was coming, "you should know that...regardless of your status as Loki's lady, if I __do__ meet my end out there, I'll do so with thoughts of you," he confessed, swallowing the lump in his throat, "I feel like you're my guardian angel, disguised as the most beautiful woman I've ever met in all my life. Just being with you makes me a little less afraid of what's to come. Just holding you makes me feel so alive, and I never want to forget this moment for the rest of my life. I don't think I could even if I tried," he laughed, trying to lighten the situation._

_My eyes watered as I finally came to understand that Loki was right. He wanted Bucky to feel alive, and he succeeded. There were many reasons why I loved my God of Mischief, and his unyielding drive to do good was amongst them. I felt such a pure love wash over me in that moment, both for Bucky and for Loki. Something about Bucky ignited a spark in Loki, and I knew that it only meant I would do that much more to protect him. I cleared my throat, trying to fight back the tears. Bucky's words to me were so similar to those that Loki would whisper to me before he left for battle, words I often whispered to him before I left as well. A stray tear cascaded down my cheek, but it was wiped away without hesitation by the soldier in front of me, "and you should know that regardless of how little time we've had together, if you die, a piece of my heart will die with you, so try not to break my heart, Bucky Barnes," I trembled, my voice so close to breaking. Bucky, like Steve, had such a pure soul with a drive to do good, to do what was right. When I met people like them, there was a connection that happened, a connection that couldn't be broken, not even in death. It was as if our souls fused together and became one, and I would forever feel their life lingering within me._

"_Can I cut in?" Howard's voice interrupted my private moment with Bucky. I glanced over at the genius who had been waiting patiently for a dance with me. He held Bucky's hat out to him._

_As the soldier nodded in response to the question, he took his hat, propping it atop his head, "take good care of my girl. This little lady is the best dance partner you'll ever have," he remarked, winking at me._

_Howard and Bucky shook hands, a firm grip connecting the two men, "be careful out there, soldier, and make it home safe," Howard insisted, as if his mere words could protect the soldier. It was a sweet sentiment, and I had often received the same words. Sometimes, it did make me fight a little harder to come home, so I hoped it would do the same for Bucky._

_Bucky turned his attention back to me, and I threw my arms around him, unable to contain myself. This was goodbye. This would be our final time to bask in the presence of one another. His strong arms wrapped around my waist, completely enveloping my body, not wanting to let go, "when you leave, don't look back. Just keep walking," I ordered him, knowing that I wasn't going to be able to keep myself together. I told the same thing to Loki when he left for battle without me, which wasn't often. Still, I always urged Loki to not look back, to not search the crowd of faces to find me._

_He nodded his head in agreement to the terms. As he pulled away, I noticed the sorrow in his eyes, that our time was cut so short. The heartbreak was clear in his eyes, and I felt my own heart twist as he spoke, "goodbye, Eva. You're the one I'll never forget," he murmured to me, the words remaining sacred between the two of us. No one else would ever know what he said or how he said it, or the look in his eyes as if I were the only woman in the world._

_I grasped his right shoulder with my right hand, my arm crossing between the two of us, "farewell, Sergeant Barnes," I responded, my voice breaking as the tears threatened to spill from my eyes. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked through the crowd. I stood with Howard at my side as I watched him leave, my heart breaking as I wondered what his future had in store for him, as I wondered what it would be like to just bring him back to Asgard with me to protect him for the rest of his days. The fairytale in my mind offered me nothing but a false sense of comfort. My bottom lip trembled, and a few stray tears fell from my eyes as he opened the door, hesitating for only a moment. Then, like Loki, he turned around, his eyes searching the crowd of faces to find mine. Tears had left a few wet streaks down his cheeks, but once his eyes caught mine, I gave a nod of my head, bidding him a final farewell._

_Brushing the tears from my cheeks, my eyes locked with Loki's saddened blue ones as he sat over at the table on his own. The sudden eye contact seem to pull him out of deep thought, but upon seeing my tear stained cheeks, he offered me a sad smile, understanding the toll every goodbye took on me. I was never good at bidding farewell to anyone, especially people I had __that__ connection with. Loki knew that Bucky and Steve were two of those people, and we both knew that Howard wouldn't be far behind them with his quick wit and hidden sensitivity. Deep beneath that rough and jagged exterior was a man who was just as vulnerable as the rest. I clenched my jaw, fighting the emotions back so that I could deal with them later when it was just Loki and I. He would hold me, cradle my head against his strong chest, and I'd let the tears fall silently as I listened to the steady heartbeat of the man I loved with all of mine._

_Howard's voice pulled me from my intimate, prolonged look at Loki, "are you okay?" he asked, genuine concern slipping into his tone._

_I nodded my head, wiping away the last of the tears, "yeah, I'll be alright," I answered, taking a deep breath and turning my full attention to him, "how about that dance?" I asked, forcing a smile in an attempt to fool myself that I could feel genuine happiness in the midst of my worry and sorrow. If I put on the facade, perhaps I could __become__ the facade._

_Howard's sly smile spread across his lips and reminded me of Loki's, "you're gonna fall in love with me, sweetheart, and there's nothing I can do to stop you," he teased me, his eyes even more playful than they had been when he noticed me from the stage._

_While I was taken aback, I shouldn't have been that surprised. A man who leapt from a stage in the middle of adoring fans just to ask me to go dancing with him was a man who couldn't be contained. I snickered, "what makes you think I'll fall in love with you?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow in genuine intrigue as we began dancing with one another. While Bucky was a very fluid partner, Howard was rather clumsy and stiff. I chalked it up to the amount of time he spent studying and working, time that wasn't spent having fun. That was one of the joys of living for thousands of years, you had time for everything._

"_Oh, you and I just click," he answered with a sly smile, "there's something under all this, and you'll see it soon enough. When you do, you'll toss your man to the wayside and come running to me," he finished._

_I tilted my head, fascinated by his response to my question, "so, I'm going to leave the man I've been with for the majority of my life when I fall in love with you, a man I met tonight?"_

"_That's the plan, yes," he answered_

_My eyes widened, "oh! There's a plan?"_

"_Of course!" Howard snickered, before sizing me up, ready to put me on a pedestal, "a guy like me needs a plan to even have a shot at a girl like you."_

_Before I could formulate a response, my eyes caught those of my love over Howard's shoulder, and I noticed that he was smiling at the exchange going on between Howard and I. He could hear us clearly, and the conversation was rather entertaining for him. There was never any reason for Loki to be jealous, so that emotion wasn't prevalent for him anymore. Once upon a time, his jealousy had been clear as day, especially when it came to my friendship with Thor. However, after spending nearly a millennia together, we both knew that we'd find our way back to each other. Once I cast as smile over to Loki, I turned my attention back to Howard, wanting to change the subject, "you didn't mention that you've been working on the technology for your hovercar since you were a child. It's been the better part of 20 years."_

"_I didn't want to age myself," he replied, shrugging it off before tilting his head, "how did you know that anyway?"_

"_I keep an eye on things," I answered, wanting to be as discreet as possible. I couldn't tell him that over the past thousand years, I made trips from my home world to Earth, that I watched over his planet from afar, that Loki and I had a hand in changing the course of history from time to time. Other people knew about his work with hover tech, so it wasn't out of the ordinary to have that information, "what made you so interested in this technology, anyway?"_

_For a moment, he was lost in thought, his deep brown eyes glazing over with memories of his past. For the first time that night, I saw him as much more than he let on. I witnessed his memories with him as they flashed before his eyes. I saw his parents. His mother worked in a factory, and his father sold fruit. I saw him get bullied in school for not having nicer things. I saw every memory he had, and once he pulled himself back to the present, my inquiring mind was forced out. He cleared his throat, "my, uh, my parents," he stammered, stumbling over his words at the first sign of vulnerability._

"_Were they also genius inventors?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood. I couldn't let him know that I had seen who they were, what he experienced as he grew up. He had to think that this information was given to me by him, not that I practically stole it from him without his knowledge._

"_I'm a genius inventor?" he asked, raising a playful eyebrow. He was well aware that I admired his work, but it was clear that he was trying to get out of the situation I had put him in with my previous question. I knew he was trying to avoid the vulnerability, the feeling of being unencumbered by the facade he wore. He was afraid to be just Howard. Sensing that I wasn't going to let him change the subject, he took a deep breath, preparing himself to answer my question, "I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth, and I sure as hell didn't grow up like that either. My parents were poor, my friends were poor, everyone I knew was poor. I witnessed the poor treatment of the lower class by the upper class. Growing up, I was bullied and isolated because I didn't have as many things as others did. My parents were looked down upon because of their jobs, but they made an honest living. I had respect for my parents, but I knew that I didn't want to live from hand to mouth for the rest of my life, so I put my strengths to good use. I just wanted to do something more with my life than struggle to make ends meet. I've come across a lot of luck that got me to this point, but I don't think I'll ever forget where I came from."_

"_That's what's going to make you a stronger man, Howard," I assured him, feeling the connection between the two of us strengthen. While I felt a spark when I witnessed his memories, I felt a deeper connection when he trusted me enough to let me in the door, even if it was just a little bit. His gaze disconnected from mine, and he tried to focus on something else to keep himself from becoming too invested. I knew that move. I had seen it in Midgardians and Asgardians alike. It was a fear of letting people see them for who they truly were. Howard knew that I had broken down a piece of that barrier, that I had made my way inside his fortress of solitude. When he cast his gaze away from me, he did it to protect himself; he did it as a desperate attempt to rebuild the wall and toss me back out, but I wouldn't let him. I reached between us, my fingers grazing over the smooth skin of his cheek, and I turned his head so that he was facing me once more. My eyes connected with his, and I tried to convey every ounce of support and encouragement I had for him in my gaze, "you'll appreciate your successes more if you remember your failures, and you'll appreciate what you have if you remember what you didn't have before. All you went through, that's going to make you more determined, more powerful, and far more beautiful. I know it."_

_His eyes brightened at my words of encouragement, and I could tell that it was probably the first time in a long time someone believed in the man beneath the mask. A spark of life ignited within him, as if my words fanned the flame within him. He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close to him, his eyes filled with inspiration as his eyes stayed locked on me. That was the moment, the single moment, when I knew that I was wrong about Howard in the beginning. I was wrong about him being this arrogant, self-righteous, boastful man. I knew that it was a facade, but once he let me see him, I saw all of him. I saw the pain, the disappointments, the fear, and the humility. The connection between the two of us was amplified in that moment, and the day would never come when I stopped caring for him. He was one of the people humanity needed, a hero that humanity seldom deserved. During the time we danced with one another, swaying back and forth, I discovered every piece of him, his past, his present, and his future. I saw what he would bring about, the changes he would make, the lives he would change, and the life he would create. I saw a son who would be one of the greatest gifts to the world, one of the greatest gifts to me._

_As the music slowed down again after a handful of songs, a passion in Howard's eyes caught my attention, "I have a wild proposition," he claimed, his heart skipping a beat as he ran over the idea in his head._

_I nodded, "run it by me," I insisted._

"_Marry me," he proposed, bold as ever. It made his act of jumping off the stage seem subtle and tame. My breath hitched in my throat, and I was left speechless. It was a question I was still waiting to hear from Loki-a subject we danced around all the time-and we had been together for our entire lives, but then there was Howard who took mere hours to ask that same question. I wondered if there was something wrong with one of us. Perhaps there was something wrong with me that made Loki not want to marry me, or perhaps, there was something wrong with Howard for asking me to marry him so quickly, or perhaps, there was something wrong with Loki for taking nearly a thousand years to ask the question. In my state of shock, Howard took the time to formulate his argument, "say yes, and I'll buy you the biggest, most beautiful ring in all of New York. We'll have the biggest wedding money can buy, and I'll make sure you have the perfect dress. Hell, I'll have it custom made for you. There'd be none like it in the world. All you have to do is say yes," he urged me, his brown eyes hopeful and still filled with that spontaneity._

_My heart broke as I tried to figure out a way to let him down gently. Loki and I belonged together, and there would never be another man I would love as much as him. There would never be another man I would even consider marrying aside from Loki. That sensitive, mischievous, sometimes self-destructive, funny, compassionate God of Mischief was my person, my world, my life. While Howard would become one of my people, he couldn't occupy the same space in my heart as Loki. I smiled at him, touched by his insistence on marrying me, "oh, Howard, that's so sweet, but...I can't," I replied, not wanting to hurt him._

"_Please, just...tell me why," he insisted, confusion washing over him. A part of him was expecting me to agree to it, to run away with him and live happily ever after. However, his happily ever after wasn't mine._

_I reached up and stroked his cheek, wanting to be as gentle with him as possible. Howard, I knew, was a good man beneath all the rubble, and I had no intention of breaking his heart. I knew that denying his proposal would be hard for him to cope with for a time, but I couldn't throw away my life with Loki to pursue a life with a man I didn't love in that way. Allowing a gentle smile to form on my lips, I proceeded to answer Howard's question, "I have no need for a custom made dress or an extravagant wedding. I have no need for such a ring, either. All I've ever needed in my life...is love, and I found that in Loki, in the man I plan to spend the rest of my life with," I answered, glancing over at the man who's eyes hadn't broken away from me, whose eyes never flickered between the faces of those in the room. His eyes remained locked on me the entire time, admiring me from where he sat. Loki often studied me, which left me rather flustered when I caught him, but it was romantic in a way that I'd never experienced before. The man I love more than anything loved me enough to want to bask in every ounce of me. I was lucky._

_I turned my full attention back to Howard, "he could ask for my hand with a blade of grass tied around my finger, and I would say 'yes' to him in a heartbeat. It's not about the material possessions, Howard. Love, marriage-they're about the time your love spends with you. It's about the times when you're sick, and they sit at the side of your bed, stroking your hair back as they sing your favorite song to you. It's about the way they look at you like you're the only person in a crowded room. It's about the way your bodies fit together perfectly, as if you were one soul-one being-at the beginning of time. It's about the arguments that end with a kiss because you don't want to go to bed angry at them. It's about the mornings you awake, and you are greeted with the sight of them-the morning sun shining against their skin, and they're the most beautiful sight in all the universe. It's about the nights you spend telling stories that they already know, but they listen as if they were hearing it for the first time. It's about them learning to braid so they can braid your hair back because they love the sight of your face. It's about their willingness to learn everything about you, and your willingness to let them because you trust that they'd never hurt you. I already know that you and I are destined to be closer than many, but my heart belongs to Loki. It always has, and it always will," I explained, wanting him to understand that my refusal to marry him wasn't about the lack of a connection I had to him, but it was about my connection with Loki._

"_You really love him," he realized aloud, finally understanding that my love for Loki ran deeper than any ocean ever could. A piece of me wondered how he couldn't understand it from the beginning, how he could genuinely believe that my love for Loki could be so flexible that I would leave my love to run off with him. Perhaps he just didn't know what love was in the first place and the power it had over those who felt it._

"_You've never felt love before?" I asked, tilting my head._

_He shrugged, "I'm a busy man. Love would just get in the way of me living my life."_

_I thought back to one of my thousands of interactions with Midgardians over the years, and I remembered one in particular that stood out. He was a legendary figure in the eyes of the Midgardians, held to one of the highest degrees. His words struck a chord with both Loki and I, as we had formed a friendship with him long ago, "a great man once said, "a life without love is no life at all,"" I quoted a man who had once been one of my dearest Midgardian friends. I remembered a time when he said those words to me at a time when I was afraid to let Loki see every piece of me. There were things that I hid from him, things I didn't want Loki to see, and it caused a strain in our relationship. When I took my concerns to our mutual friend, he uttered those same words to me and opened the door for me to let my love in, to let him see all the good, bad, and ugly, to let him see that I wasn't always strong._

"_Da Vinci," Howard realized the source of the quote._

"_He was right," I remarked with a nod, "I've had only fragments of my life that Loki wasn't a part of, and I can tell you that those moments-no matter how great-pale in comparison to even the most inconsequential moment with him. I can't live my life without him, without the love we share. You'll know that feeling someday, Howard. You'll know what it's like to be willing to throw it all away if it meant you could have even a moment with your person. You'll know what it's like to feel truly and terrifyingly vulnerable with someone, what it's like to be levelled by nothing more than a glance. You'll know that type of love someday, and I hope you can appreciate it when it comes around, that you won't chase it away because it will be more fulfilling than anything else."_

"_You're not like the others I've met," he stated, a smile spreading across his face to hide the obvious bruising that my rejection left on his heart._

"_What do you mean?" I asked._

_He snickered, "you're the first girl to reject me."_

_I smiled at his willingness to pull himself back together, to find a way to cope with the rejection in a way that didn't involve him cutting me out of his life completely. Howard was strong, and I knew that about him from the stories and memories he didn't tell me about, from the past I saw. His ability to move past that heartbreak only made me admire him even more than I already did, "there's a first time for everything, right?" I asked before pulling him closer. I wrapped my arms around him as we continued to dance with another, and I rested my head on his shoulder. As we swayed back and forth, my eyes locked with Loki's once more to see him mouth those three words to me. It was something he often did in any setting that included more than just the two of us, whether we were leaving for battle, or one of us was leaving without the other, or we were at a party Odin or Thor decided to throw, he would lock eyes with me and mouth those words that he whispered to me before we fell asleep together every night. As he smiled, I mouthed those same words right back to him._

_I love you._

*Flashback End*

"Loki and I ended up staying until everyone went home, and he managed to get the band to play one more song..._our_ song. After we left, we went to the cinema that night, and I tore my blue dress on the way out, which was something he never let me live down. It was one of the most remarkable nights of my life, and your father played a big part in that," I finished my recollection of that night.

Tony's eyes widened. He had been completely silent as I recalled the memory of that night to him, and I knew that he was bottling up each question as it came to him, "wait, hold on, so...you knew pre-serum Steve?!" he asked, stunned that it hadn't come up before. He always questioned our closeness, especially when we fought together during the battle of New York; however, he chalked it up to the similarities in our moral code. Tony learned a lot about my past when I shared that memory, and, while I figured his greatest question would be about his father, I wasn't too surprised that he was just as intrigued by my long-time relationship with Steve.

I nodded my head in response to his question, "I did. I looked after him and Sergeant Barnes throughout the war. I asked Heimdall to watch over them and update me whenever something changed, much like I have him do now. There were times when Heimdall would grant me his vision so that I could see them the way he did. There were times when I found my way back to Midgard and fought alongside them, obviously not letting them know it, or that would've been a bit awkward. I didn't always fight in the wars here on Midgard, but when I did, there was always a reason for it. During that war, I fought for them, to protect them like I promised I would," I explained, staring up at the ceiling above the bed. Tony's deep brown eyes continued to study my face. I could feel the conflict within him, and I knew that he was debating on whether or not to ask me something, and how he would ask it if he decided to do so. I snickered, "just ask," I urged him, not wanting him to dance around what he truly wanted to know.

"What happened to the soldier?" he asked, his voice low, almost as if he knew the answer to my question already, almost as if he knew it would be hard for me to answer.

The moment he mentioned the soldier-_my_ soldier-my heart twisted in pain. It was a pain far greater than the pain in my abdomen, a pain I could feel throughout every inch of myself. I tried not to think of Bucky often. I tried to force his memory from my mind because the pain of losing him was unbearable. Our connection was so great that his death was one of the most painful losses I had ever experienced. I could still remember his fall. Heimdall told me that they were going in for a risky mission-him and Steve-and I stood at the edge of Asgard with him in his observatory. We stared out into the universe together, and he told me everything that was happening as it was happening. I wouldn't go unless it was an absolute emergency. When he told me that Bucky was blown from the train but was still holding onto the side, I ordered him to send me to them. That was reason enough to go. It was an emergency at that point.

By the time I reached Midgard, though, it was too late. The train had gone, and I found Bucky in the snow. His body was broken, and he was so close to death. As I began transferring his wounds onto myself, he stopped me, telling me that it was his time, that it was time for him to go home. I would've taken his place if he let me, but he made the choice to let go. Instead of forcing him to live, I held him. I held him and whispered to him as his breathing slowed. He had enough strength to look at me and smile, telling me that he knew he would see me in the end. I wished it hadn't been the end, though. For years, I was left wishing that the two of us had more time with each other, that I had taken him to Asgard with Steve and hid them in our cottage in the woods. That regret was only amplified when Steve made his sacrifice. Both of them deserved better, and both of them lost. Bucky's death was the one that solidified my vendetta against Death. She stole him from me, and I would bring about a reckoning.

When I was pulled back to the present, tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I blinked them away quickly, not wanting Tony to see me in such a vulnerable state. Clearing my throat, I gazed back over at him, meeting those same brown eyes I looked into so many years prior. He had Howard's eyes-so much pain, yet still so much innocence, "Steve never told you?" I asked, wondering how Tony didn't know.

He shook his head, "Steve doesn't talk about his old life..._ever_," he answered, "and no one is brave enough to ask him about it. He's a quiet, level-headed guy, but everyone has their breaking point. We all figured that his past is that breaking point for him. I don't want to see that guy angry," he confessed.

I snickered, "Bruce would have nothing on an angry Cap," I joked before letting out a sigh, "if he hasn't told you, I don't think it's my story to tell. All I will say is that he died with honor, a heroes death if there ever was one. Sergeant Barnes was a good man, a man worthy of so much more, a man who deserved nothing but peace and love. I only knew him for a short time, but I _knew_ him. I...held him as it happened. When he-" my voice broke as the tears filled my eyes at the mere mention of that memory. I blinked the tears away, trying to ground myself once more, "when he died, a piece of me went with him, and ever since that day, I've lived with the guilt that came with my inability to save him."

Tony shook his head, "he wasn't yours to save-none of us are," he reminded me, in a desperate attempt to get me to forgive myself or to allow myself to let it go.

"All of you are!" I snapped, my voice quiet enough to keep our presence a secret but harsh enough to cause Tony's eyes to widen. He had no idea just how much they all meant to me, how each one of them were like a piece of my family. I had no one else, but I had these select few people that I let into my life, people I let see me without a facade or a wall. I let them in and accepted them as members of my dysfunctional little family. Even when I lost it all, I still had them. For him to question my undying love and loyalty to them made my heart sink, "you're _my_ responsibility. I made promises."

"God, sometimes, you and your self-sacrificial attitude are a real pain in the ass," he teased me, trying to lighten the mood. Sensing that I didn't want to talk about the topic anymore, that it would be best to just steer away from the Bucky situation, Tony brought up Steve again, "did Steve remember you in New York?"

"Right away," I chuckled, remembering his pure disbelief when I showed up. He had already been surprised by Loki's continued, ageless existence, but when I showed up, he was more upset by it than anything, thinking that his mind was playing tricks on him. I smiled, recalling one of the good moments I had in a time when my life was falling apart, "we had a _long _conversation when I came to Midgard for Loki. He recognized Loki from before, too, and it was shocking for him to see faces from his past. It was just as shocking for me to see him, too. I didn't know he was alive. The first moment we had alone together, I threw my arms around him and wouldn't let go. A lot was happening during that time, and Steve was there for me in a way no one else could be. They never knew that we were Asgardians or that even such a place existed, so I had a lot to explain to him. Steve took it far better than your father did, though," I laughed, recalling pieces of Howard's reaction.

"He knew about you?!" Tony asked, his mouth agape.

I nodded my head, "absolutely! He started to question it when he was growing older, but I was staying young. He never blatantly asked me, but I knew he was curious. When I opened up to him and told him about Asgard, he didn't have the same response Steve did. Steve had seen a lot already, and he knew that there needed to be something that made me stay the same 70 years down the line. With Howard, he was simply questioning my genetics. I think he wanted to replicate them somehow, and I didn't blame him. He got old pretty fast," I teased a man who was unable to tease back at this point. That was what our relationship was built on: quips, teasing, and a lot of banter. Remembering him for the man he was when we were together was all that kept me sane. If I remembered the day he died, it would tear me apart. I began to think of Howard as just having gone off to a foreign land where I hadn't discovered yet, a place where we would see each other once again, a place where he was happy, basking in the sun and working as he always did. It was the easiest way for me to cope with his death-to think of him as if he wasn't even dead in the first place.

Tony laughed at my witty remark about his father, sensing the playfulness of our relationship, "he never wrote about you being an Asgardian, but he wrote about you a lot. I think he really loved you, Eva."

"And I loved him," I murmured, my jaw clenching to somehow hold together the dam of emotions that was about to break. I thought of what could've driven Howard to write about me, and I wondered what words he used to describe our time together. I wondered if he would wrote about the time he let me drive his car, how I nearly crashed it, but he stayed calm the entire time. I wondered if he wrote about the time I surprised him on his birthday with Asgardian ale, or if he would even remember that night at all. I wondered if he wrote about the sapphire necklace he gifted to me. I wondered if he looked at our time together fondly, if he wished we had more of it. After pondering the likelihood that he viewed our time together as anything less than magical, I realized how ignorant I was. Howard and I had a true friendship, a beautiful friendship that worked both ways. Of course, there was always something more from Howard the more time we spent together, but he never wanted to interfere with my relationship with Loki. All he wanted was for me to be happy, but he confessed once that a small piece of him wished I had found that happiness in him.

I cleared my throat, "I came back all the time to visit Howard. I watched as his work consumed him, and I watched him strive to pour into the world the very best inventions and products he could. I watched him suffer and alienate people. I watched his fall from grace. He was a man I admired, one of my dearest friends, a man I considered my family. Your father was a good man with a heart of gold. He had his demons, his darkness, but he loved you in the best way he knew how. I did my best as the years went by to protect you from him. I did my best to protect him from himself. Slowly but surely, I watched as my best friend was swallowed by alcohol and work. His smile didn't reach his eyes anymore, not even when he was with me. He was serious, cold, and calculating," I explained, thinking of how I lost him even before he died. There were moments when his old personality would creep back up, times when he would turn on music from our early years spent together. He would pull me into his arms and dance with me in his workshop, humming the tune as we swayed back and forth with one another. That carefree, lively man came around less and less, but when he showed up, I felt like it breathed life back into me.

"When you were born, I remember how proud he was when he handed you to me," I confessed, my eyes locking with Tony's just in time to see the disbelief that played on his face. I knew how rocky their relationship was when he was growing up, the man Howard became around Tony. Tony missed out on seeing his father for the man he used to be. Tears immediately filled his eyes as I continued to speak, "he told me that you were the greatest gift he could give to the world and that you were the greatest gift life could give to him. I can remember holding you in my arms for the first time, and you looked up at me with so much innocence, a sparkle in those little brown eyes. I was so afraid I would break you, so afraid I would make a mistake and ruin something so precious, so beautiful. You wrapped your little hand around my finger, and from that moment, I vowed to protect you with my life, to die for you if that was the only way to keep you safe," I stated, my voice quivering as he became more emotional.

At the mention of my love and devotion to him, Tony's tears cascaded down his cheeks. I reached across the two of us and wiped them away as gently as possible before cupping his cheek with my hand, "I have loved you since before you were born. When Howard and Maria told me they were having a baby, I knew that I loved you already because you would be the product of two of the most amazing people I've ever known in my life. When you were still a little boy, Howard asked me to promise him that if _anything_ were to happen to him or Maria, I would look out for you, and I did. I made that promise without second thought because from the very moment I held you when you were a baby, I knew that you were a gift to the world. I knew that you would bring about change, that you would give freely of yourself, that you would be the man your father was and also be the man he couldn't be. I promised your father, my best friend, that I would love you, protect you, and guide you as if you were my own," I murmured, stroking his cheek with the tips of my fingers, allowing him to access the memories I forced him to forget, much like I did with _her_.

His eyes widened, "I remember you. I remember you from when I was a boy. I thought they were just strange dreams, like I was...I don't know, forcing myself to see someone who wasn't there. I remember you!" he recalled, the memories of the two of us flashing across his eyes. For so long, I was the only one holding onto those memories, but it wasn't Tony's fault.

"I took those memories from you to protect you. I didn't want our memories to drive you mad, so I stole them. All throughout your life, I've been watching, Tony. You've never been alone in this world, not even for a moment," I said, continuing to wipe away his tears, "I was there at your parents funeral, sitting beside you and holding your hand. I was there for every birthday when you were growing up. I was there for every accomplishment, every tear, every disappointment, every joy. Then, there came a time when I knew I had to stand on the sidelines, but I was there through every trial and temptation, whether I was in the background or right next to you. You want to know why I'm here? Why I broke my vow to stay away? It's because I made a different promise in a different time, and I intend to keep it."


	15. Still

***Loki's POV***

_Loki-my love, my light, my life,_

_I'm writing this letter to you to tell you that I've left for Midgard. I'm not entirely sure if or when I'll be returning, but there is an issue that calls for my attention. I can't lie to you. I can't tell you that I want to come back to Asgard once I leave. There's nothing left for me here without you. Odin's decisions have left me powerless in both the situation with you and decisions that are being made out here. You made your choice, Loki, and you didn't choose me. I chose, you though, and I will continue to choose you. I've never stopped loving you, and I never will. I'll love you until every star burns out and swallows the universe into the void. Even then, I'm sure I'll continue loving you-I'm sure I'd find a way. I have nothing left here, Loki, no one left who needs me. I've never belonged in Asgard; we both knew that, so I can't find a logical reason to want to return to a place that has never wanted me._

_You've made it clear that you'd prefer to live your life without me, that you'd rather die than spend another moment in my presence, and I'm prepared to give that to you. I'm prepared to give you the peace and solitude that you wish for, but I want you to remember that if you let me, I will come running back to you in a heartbeat. That's the thing about our love-I thought it would last for both of us. I thought our love would withstand the test of time, but I've been loving a memory for so long. I've lost almost all hope that the man I loved is still somewhere inside you. Maybe Thanos did burn him out. Maybe Thanos killed him. Maybe he truly did steal every piece of the man you once were, leaving me with nothing. Those thoughts, the knowledge of what he did to you-to the man I loved-is what will help me find pleasure in killing him. Death-no matter how gruesome or painful-would be far more merciful than the pain I feel when I live my life without you by my side. Perhaps that's what I'm waiting for. I cannot die in peace until I find him and rip him apart._

_My father will find the note I left for him soon enough, and if I die, or if I decide to stay on Midgard, know that he will continue to fight for you the way I always have. Aaldir has never lost sight of you, just as I haven't. I'll always keep an eye on you, Loki, and remember that you will always be loved. As long as I'm alive, there will always be someone on your side. I've believed in you, even when you didn't believe in yourself. I've loved you, even when you didn't love yourself. I've fought for you, even when you gave up. While my mind is telling me that the man I love is long gone, my heart is holding out hope that he's still in there somewhere, that all we've been through wasn't wasted time. That's the one thing that has kept me from giving up. You're my everything, Loki. I love you._

_Love always, Eva_

My eyes watered as I stared down at the note. Sorrow struck me, but I was also burdened with a fear that was unparalleled. I hated the thought of her knowing about Thanos, of her thirst for revenge. I hated that she knew about him, that she was prepared to find him and kill him for what he did. I knew how powerful he was, and he was one of the main reasons why I continued to push her away. I wanted to hold her, to love her once more. I never stopped loving her, and Thanos used that against me. He saw that she was my weakness, then, he exploited it. I couldn't tell her that the reason why I was so afraid to be with her was because of Thanos because that would only drive her to find him even more.

The memory was still so vivid, as if it were happening in that very moment. Thanos wanted me to bring Eva to him, telling me that they could do great things together, that they could bring about the dawn of a new universe. I never understood why he wanted Eva, though. Her gifts were undeniable, and I could sense her power; however, she showed no signs of being a goddess. Still, Thanos wanted her, and if he couldn't have her, no one could. I knew that my failure to deliver her to him had the potential of being detrimental to all of us, since he didn't settle. He would search for her, and when he found her, he would take her. Perhaps, it was part of the reason why he ruined me in the first place. He wanted to give Eva a reason to seek him out. Either way, I couldn't risk her safety. No matter how badly I wanted to pick up where we left off, to apologize for it all, to love her enough to make up for all the time we lost, I couldn't. I couldn't put her in danger, so I had to push her away, make her wish she never loved me in the first place. It was a fate worse than death.

"She chose Midgard over you," that gruff voice sounded from the cell across from mine. Ezra.

I glared at him, knowing that he was merely trying to evoke an emotion. He looked so familiar. Those eyes-I had seen them before. They were as green, like the color of spring. They were familiar, but they were also so cold, "the further away from me, the safer she is," I hissed, turning away from him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of my anger.

"Thanos could never do to her what Cul will do to her once he has his hands on her," he insisted, as if he read my mind, as if he could see how much I feared the Mad Titan. He couldn't possibly know that. I didn't even know who Cul was in the first place, so I tried to imagine that he had just gone mad. Perhaps he was one of the rambling lunatics that Odin often abandoned in the dungeons. Ezra continued, though, "just imagine what Thanos would do but a thousand times worse. Imagine the hell my father will rain down upon her. _Imagine it_," he hissed before the world began to blur.

In the blink of an eye, everything around me changed. I was still in my cell, but the dungeon was empty, and my cell was open. What was happening? My eyes flickered around at the rubble where many of the cells used to be. Blood-dried and fresh-painted the walls and floors-a harsh contrast to what the dungeons had once been. While it was never a beautiful place to be, the first level was never particularly unkempt. It was what one would assume the dungeons of Asgard would look like-still elegant, while also being dreary enough to drive one mad. The destruction surrounding me was something I was used to, but it hadn't taken over my home before. All I could think of was the one person I needed to protect. Eva.

While the dungeon was empty, and all the cells were completely vacant, I still heard Ezra's voice, "I would suggest you run," he whispered, sadistically. I could hear the amusement in his voice, as if he found joy in my distress. I knew that he was in my head, that he was toying with me. This couldn't be true. This couldn't be my home. However, it was so immersive. I could smell the fresh blood; the metallic scent filled the dungeons. I could feel the stillness in the air. I could hear the silence, the nothingness. Then, I could hear her scream. It was just as clear as her voice when she sang in the forest, but it elicited a more primal emotion. As soon as her scream echoed through the walls of the palace, reaching me in the dungeons, I took off.

My legs pushed my body as hard as they could. I stumbled up the stairs, catching myself from falling, as I knew it would take up precious time I had to get to her. No matter how fast I ran, though, I felt like I wasn't gaining on her. Her screams of agony still felt miles away, and the palace felt larger than ever. I had walked these halls thousands of times, and the never felt so long in all my life. The last time I had walked them felt like it was short-lived. I knew it would be the last few moments I would get to spend with her. She had trailed behind the guards as I was brought before my father, and she followed them when they brought me back down to "live out the rest of my days" in the dungeons amongst the filth. She didn't stay long enough to watch them toss me into my cell, and I was glad for that. She didn't need to see me the way I was. She didn't deserve any of what I put her through, what my presence put her through.

Another scream forced me to push myself even faster, and my mind wandered once more. Where was this endurance when Eva, Thor, and I were still young? When we would play within the walls of the castle and break Odin's expensive collections? Mother would always find us before Odin caught onto what had happened, and she would send us out into the garden to play before convincing the Allfather that it was her clumsiness-which she had none of-that led to his possessions being broken. Frigga, for a short time, was the light of my life. She was the person who believed in me, who loved me with all my flaws, who comforted me in every way. Then, the universe decided that I was worthy of something. Thor was worthy of his powers, but I was worthy of Eva. I never needed a throne, a hammer, a statue. All I ever needed was Eva, my light, my love, my life, my princess.

"She's dying, Loki. If you don't get to her before my father does, you're going to lose what you love most," Ezra growled, his voice causing the world around me to quake. If my body had the ability to move any faster, it did. I barreled through the doors of the palace only to see the horror before me. Asgard was on fire. The city before me was turned to ash, and what had been left standing was charred and ruined. I gazed over at the forest-_our home_-to see that the trees Eva once sang to were ablaze, lighting up the night around them. It was one of the most terrifying sights of my life. Eva and I lived in that forest, fell in love amongst the trees, and I had even planned to ask her to marry me beneath the leaves of _our_ tree-the tree of life that was watered with Death's tears. It was gone. All of it. _Gone_.

I nearly fell down the stairs upon descending them. I used her screams to guide me through the streets, and I used the dim light from the burning coal or the small fires that still lived along my path. My body became weaker the more desperate and pained her screams became. The closer I got, the louder they became, which was both frightening and relieving. I was growing closer, but she was also still in pain. The screams began to grow so loud, the ground beneath me quaked. I could _feel_ the power from those desperate pleas for help-those panicked, anguished yells. The sound became so unbearable that I nearly stopped. It was like my body was trying to save me from witnessing what it was about to. It was like my body and mind knew what I was about to see, and if it slowed me just enough, I may have been smart enough to turn around, to walk away.

I wasn't.

The moment I pushed through that fear, the threshold my mind tried to keep me from crossing, her screams stopped, and my heart fell through the very world beneath me. It was silent. The only sound came from the crackling fire and my heart that thudded in my own chest. In that moment, though, I wished for someone to extract the needless organ from my very body. If the silence meant what I knew it did, I had no use for my heart anymore. I had no use for anything anymore. Knowing that I had to find her no matter what, I continued to run through the streets, the light from the fire growing dimmer and dimmer. Soon, I was running through complete darkness. A sinister laugh rattled me to my very core, "you can't save her from me," I heard a deep voice, a voice far deeper than Ezra's. It didn't sound like him in the first place, but a part of me knew who it was.

Cul.

In the blink of an eye, my way was lit once more. The homes and shops that lined the streets were set ablaze and gave me the ability to see what I never wanted to see. I had seen her close to death on Midgard, but it was nothing like this. She laid completely lifeless on the street in front of me. Blood stained her pale white skin where it had once been kissed by the sun, and it matted down her wild, dark hair. There she was, the woman I loved, dead right in front of my very eyes. My hand flew up to cover my mouth at the mere sight of her. Blood pooled up on the cobblestone beneath her, and images of our life together flashed before my eyes. I suddenly remembered everything. I remembered every argument, every moment of peace, every ounce of sorrow, every moment of relief. I experienced my life with her. Now, I was without her.

A soft whimper escaped my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn't do this without her. I couldn't live my life without her. We promised that, should we meet Death, we would do so together. This was never the plan. It felt like every ounce of me was pulled out the moment I realized that there was no sign of life from her. There was a void in me that sprung to life and sucked away all the happiness I had ever felt. I still experienced some happiness in the dungeons, like when she would visit or when I would hear her sing in the forest. I still had small moments of happiness, but a life without her was no life at all. My heart felt like it had been torn out of my chest when it sunk in that this was the end. She was the one person who loved me more than I ever deserved, more than I could ever love myself. Now, she was just gone, and the last words I spoke to her were evil, hurtful..._angry_. I hurt the one thing in my life that I wanted to protect more than anything else. I tried to hate the one woman I loved more than anything else. I'd never have the chance to take it back, to tell her that this was all a mistake, that I was sorry for every ounce of pain I put her through, that I never stopped loving her. Even after Thanos took everything from me, he couldn't pull away the love that I had for her.

I scrambled over to her, falling to my knees at her side. In the process, my clothes and hands became covered in her blood, "oh...oh no," I stammered, pulling her body into my arms. I brushed the blood-soaked hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear as I always had, "Eva?" I pressed, trying to get her to open her eyes, to see me. Maybe she would be okay. Maybe she would pull through just like before. When her body remained limp in my arms, I began to panic. The world felt like it was caving in on me, and my heartbeat was suddenly louder than ever before, "_Eva_?" I shouted, tears beginning to stream wildly down my cheeks. I shook her body as the sobs wracked through me, causing me to tremble. I was terrified in a way I had never been before.

This terror didn't stem from the fear of being alone because I was used to being alone in the dungeons. It didn't stem from the fear of being lost because I was lost for some time when I was with Thanos. It didn't stem from the fear of being hated because I was despised by many as a child. It didn't stem from the fear of being used because Thanos used me as a pawn in his game on Midgard. It didn't stem from the fear of being vulnerable because I had been vulnerable with her all my life. No, this was a terror that was rooted in my inability to let go of the one good thing I had, the one miracle in my life: Eva. She was the light in my darkness, the essence of life on the battlefield of my existence, the calm in my chaos. She was everything I ever wanted, ever needed, ever dreamed of. She was the very air I breathed, and now, I was suffocating.

"You paved the way for this to happen. I hope you realize that," Ezra's voice cut through my sobs.

I tried to ignore the pain that his words brought because there was no greater pain than holding the last piece of your heart as they died, "Eva, wake up. Please, just wake up," I begged her, burying my face into her hair as I cried, "don't do this. Don't go!"

"You left her alone in an unforgiving world. For what?" Ezra asked, causing my heart to sink. What if he was right? What if this was my fault? I shrunk away from his words, caving in on myself. I held onto her body as tightly as I could without breaking her, and I shielded her from anymore of the harm that he could place upon her, "why? Because you were afraid of Thanos? You should be afraid of my father and I! You should be afraid of what we can take from her, what we can do to her, what we can turn her into!" he shouted, an unforgiving voice in the darkness that felt as if it was swallowing me whole.

I pushed his words aside once more, laying her body down onto the cobblestone ground before curling up next to her. I cried into her hair, every sob tearing through my body, "don't leave me like this. You promised!" I reminded her of the promise we made to each other. I had broken the promise, and it tore me to pieces when I thought of the pain it must've caused her. She always upheld her promise to me, though. She was the first to arrive on Midgard once she heard about my presence there. She was the first to confront me. She was the first to beg me to come home. She was the one who risked her life, who nearly _died_ by my hand, to see if there was a way to save me. She was the one who fought for me. She would move galaxies for me, but I failed her. This was a debt that needed to be paid. I had taken so much from her; now, I was being taken from. I broke her heart time and time again-when I ended our relationship that day in the garden, when I turned against Odin, when I fell from the bridge, when I resurfaced on Midgard, when I delivered hundreds of innocent lives to Death, when I fought her, when I treated her like nothing more than the dirt beneath my feet, when I told her I didn't love her anymore. Now, she was destroying my heart, taking every ounce of purpose I had ever felt.

My bottom lip quivered as I gazed over at her calm, peaceful face. She wasn't in pain. It was like she was sleeping. She looked like she did when I would wake up before her. I'd gaze over to see a goddess in my bed next to me. The rising sun was just barely peeking over the horizon, and it cascaded across her slender frame, accentuating the dip in her waist, the curve in her hips, her strong shoulders. I would take the time in the morning to gaze upon the love of my life, the woman who gave me reason, who filled my life with wonder and love. I would envision our future wedding and how I would ask father for permission to marry her. None of the anger I felt mattered anymore. All that mattered was her.

As I continued to gaze at her peaceful face, every ounce of guilt crept up to greet me. I should've been there. It should've been me. My bottom lip quivered as I grasped her cold hand in my own. It was something we did out of habit when we laid in the grass and stared up at the sky. She would always give my hand a gentle squeeze before she began speaking, and throughout whatever speech she gave me, she would rub my knuckles with her thumb. This time, it was my turn. I gave her hand a gentle squeeze and, with a shaking voice and tears streaming down my face, I recited the poem she had written for me, "and if death should try to part me from you, she will have no heart or love to claim, for my heart is forever in your hands, my life will never be the same. And if death should try to part you from me," my voice cracked as I held back a sob. I took a moment to collect myself before moving on, "my Love, I would take your place, for death knows not of the hole you would leave. I'd accept her cold embrace. But darling, fear not, for I know not how. I know now when or why. All I know is we'll meet her together, our journey won't end with goodbye."

I heard Ezra's chuckle in the distance, "what a sweet sentiment," he remarked in a condescending tone, "it's a shame you can only offer it to her corpse, and do you know whose fault that is?" he asked, urging me to answer through my increasing emotions, "you promised to protect her! You promised to keep her safe all those years ago. Look how much good your promise did!"

I cracked. He won. I turned my gaze to the neverending sky, "you're right, okay? What do you want from me? What do you want me to say?" I shouted, trying desperately to wipe the tears from my cheeks, but it was no use. The continued to flood my face regardless of what I did to stop them, "I know! I know I should've been there for her, that I should've taken care of her and protected her like I said I would. I failed her. What more do you want?" I screamed into the void, waiting for a reply back. I received nothing. I turned my attention back to her, caressing her face with the tips of my fingers. It felt like I was dying, like my soul was being ripped from me, but the universe was too cruel to allow me the peace that death would bring. I frowned, pressing my forehead against hers, "I'm so sorry, Eva! I'm so sorry for everything I've ever done that has caused you pain and suffering. I never should've left you in the first place. I should've stayed with you in the forest that day instead of going to talk with my father. We could have run away and gotten married on Midgard like you always wanted. We could've started a family and had beautiful children. They would have your eyes...and my hair. If we had a son first, his name would be Nova, and if we had a daughter, her name would be Aurora," I whimpered, forcing a smile as I pressed firm kisses to her forehead and cheek.

I felt myself beginning to slip back into the darkness, the familiar descent calling out to me. I just needed not to feel this pain. I needed it to stop, and if I just...let go, it wouldn't hurt anymore. I could be without this pain, this endless suffering. The darkness offered me solace, and I needed that now more than ever before. My chest felt like it was caving in, like I was slipping out of sanity. I felt like a stranger in my own body. The moment I closed my eyes and started to drift away from myself, I heard that voice, the voice I heard every morning and every night. It was soft but clear, "Loki, breathe," she instructed as calmly as possible.

My eyes flew open and flickered around the darkness to see that the buildings had stopped burning. All that was left was the glowing coals. Her body was no longer next to me, and the pool of blood she had been lying in was gone as well. My heart thudded in my chest as I scrambled up to my feet. My chest tightened once more, and I felt as if I was suffocating, as if all the air had been knocked from my lungs. I spun around, looking for the source of that voice. I needed to see her, to know she was okay. When I couldn't see her, I balled my hands up into fists and let out a roar of pure rage, "_KILL ME_!" I shouted into the void, falling into a pit of despair. I just wanted it to end. The pain was unbearable, and the moment I received an ounce of peace, it was snattched away. I needed to see her. I needed to know that my love was still alive, that I would still have the chance to make amends. I needed to know that her light wasn't extinguished.

Suddenly, there was a faint light from behind me. I whipped my body around, and that was when I saw her. That was the moment my soul was returned to me. She stood-more beautiful than ever-surrounded by a faint glow. There was no blood, no screaming, no chaos, no stillness. She was alive. I closed all the space between us in the blink of an eye before falling into her warm embrace. I felt her touch and realized-as soon as I felt her-that this was real. She was in my head. She felt my distress and found my mind just as she had done so many times before. Now, she was across the universe, but she still managed to find me, to comfort me when I needed her most.

As she held me, the world started to fall back together. I held her like she was my only source of life, like she was the very breath I breathed. I held her the way I used to...before I tore our love apart. I held her as tightly as I could without crushing her slender body in my arms, "I thought you were dead," I cried, unable to hold back the tears of pure joy and relief. Only moments prior, it felt like my world was falling apart, like it was being sucked into a vacuum, and I would go with it. Then, she appeared.

"Would that have been so terrible for you? I'd never pester you again," she joked as I felt the radiant smile tugging at her lips.

I nodded my head, "it would be the worst pain I've ever felt," I answered, burying my face into her hair as I broke down, "I thought I could take on the world without you, but I've never been more wrong of anything in my life. I need you, Eva, no matter how badly I want to deny it," I confessed, clutching onto her, never wanting to let her go again, "I can't lose you," I sobbed, falling to my knees and bringing her with me to the hard cobblestone beneath us.

Still, she continued to hold me, intertwining our bodies so that we didn't know where one person started and the other began. She stroked a hand through my hair, "I've never left you, Loki...and I won't start now," she whispered the same words she spoke to me when she was dying on Midgard, "I told you in the beginning that _nothing_...not even death itself could part me from you. I'm not going anywhere," she reminded me, cradling my head against her shoulder. She soothed me as I cried, just as she always had, and when I began to collect myself, she pulled away just enough to gather my face in her hands. She positioned my head to catch my gaze, "just breathe, Loki," she instructed, wiping the tears from my cheeks before caressing my face with her gentle fingers.

I leaned into her touch and closed my eyes, trying to focus every ounce of concentration I had left to the feel of her. I focused on the feel of the skin of her fingers against my cheeks. I focused on the warmth that she seemed to emanate, the peace I felt in her presence, and her light breathing. Eva was the one who always kept me grounded, so it was only fitting that I concentrate on her. Once I focused on her, everything else quieted, and we were the only two people in the universe. My breathing calmed, and when I opened my eyes, I noticed that the world around me was normal once more. The shops and homes were repaired, the quiet streets were lit by the sun above us, and every ounce of destruction was gone. This was her doing. Eva continued to stand before me, still and strong enough for the both of us. She must've known that my greatest fear was opening my eyes to be met with her absence. I needed time to adjust after what I had seen only moments before, and she would see me through.

"Ezra's in your head, Loki. You need to push him out," she stated, a frown tugging at her lips. We both knew what it would mean if I shut Ezra out. The act of closing the mind off to outsiders meant it would close it off to _all_ outsiders, including the ones who meant no harm. It would mean that I would protect my mind against Eva as well, and she would be unable to appear to me for the time being. I shook my head, ready to argue with her. I would rather live in constant chaos with her than experience a moment of peace without her. Sensing my hesitance, she continued, "it's a sacrifice you need to make, but I'll come back."

"Will you? Will you come back to Asgard?" I asked, hesitantly, recalling the contents of the letter she left for me, the one my mother delivered to my cell. For a moment, Eva became silent, searching my eyes for an answer she wouldn't find. I knew that she wanted to ask why I would be so eager to have her return to Asgard when I was so brutal to her before. I knew she wondered what changed. In reality, none of my feelings for her changed, but my hesitance and fear to express them did. Instead of spoiling what I wanted to save for our in-person conversation, I cupped her face in my hands and pressed my lips to her forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. It became a habit after I murmured those three little words to her, and this was my way of reminding her that she still played the pivotal role in my life. When I finally pulled away, I continued to hold her head in my hands, watching as a stray tear streamed down her cheek. She smiled up at me, and it felt as if every planet in the universe suddenly aligned. What had I done to deserve this-to deserve a woman as miraculous as her?

She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. We both knew that this wasn't permanent. She couldn't stay. We both knew that she had to return to her own mind, to Midgard, to the people she vowed to protect, to the people _I_ vowed to protect at one point. Howard would have killed me if he knew what I put his son through, and I would've let him. Eva's determined voice broke my train of thought, "I have a stronger connection to you, and you've managed to kick me out of your mind on several occasions, so you can do the same to him. All you need to do is focus, breathe, and take back your control," she instructed me, wrapping her arms around my neck, "I believe in you. I always have, and I always will."

"I need you to come home when you're finished on Midgard," I confessed, allowing her to see into my broken heart. I knew the abilities she had. I knew she would be able to sense my distress over her absence. Even if she wasn't gifted in ways no one could explain, she could still sense that pain in me. I felt lost without her, and I knew she felt lost without me. We both had time to search for our purpose, and our search always led us back to each other. As soon as I spoke those words, her eyes flickered up to meet mine, and I saw myself in them for the first time in so long. She still loved me. She never stopped. Neither did I. That was my secret. That was what I couldn't tell her, at least not like this, "you belong here...with _me_."

"I promise you, Loki, that I will come back to Asgard once I'm finished here," she promised, sounding more sure than just about anything else she ever told me. She furrowed her eyebrows, "why, though? Why now?" she asked, the question finally surfacing after she packed it away only a moment prior.

Upon hearing the question, I rested my forehead against hers and closed my eyes, basking in one last moment of peace with her. I clenched my jaw, and the atmosphere around me changed. When I opened my eyes, she was gone, and I was back in my cell amongst the filth. As a stray tear streamed down my cheek, I found the courage to answer her question, knowing that she wouldn't hear it, "because I still love you."


	16. Destiny

***Eva's POV***

Tony and I sat at a table in the bar with Mrs. Davis. Harley had been right. She was glued to the chair at that table like it was her home. Even in that moment with her, feeling her sadness and grief, I still couldn't let go of the previous night and my interaction with Loki. Everything was weighing heavier on my shoulders than ever before. I left for more reasons than just Odin's inability to see things my way or Tony's sudden trouble he found himself in. A part of me needed to be away from Asgard. It was a place that reminded me of all I had lost. Hjalmar, Loki, _her_. I lost everything on Asgard, and I was reminded of each of those losses every morning, and I lived with them all day. Still, when I saw Loki last night, something was different. Something had changed. He was the man I loved again-a little bent, but not broken..._never_ broken. I thought I would never see him again, the man I loved with every ounce of my heart and soul, but when I visited his mind, it was like he returned to me. It was as if I proved that I was worthy of his love once more, but I knew that it was just because he reached his breaking point. We all had one, and Loki, even though he was a God, was no different.

Suddenly, I felt like I would be needed again, like I had a purpose on Asgard. I always felt like my purpose was Loki. Even after the fall, I found purpose. When Thor and I brought him back to Asgard, I found my purpose in fighting for him to be released into my care. However, our interactions had broken me down into nothing. Once it sunk in that he didn't want me or need me, I had nothing. I was left fighting for air, and I found it on Midgard. The Midgardians had always given me a greater purpose, especially the select few I was linked to. It was the first time since Loki returned to Asgard that I could breathe again. Now, the spark was back in those crystal blue eyes, and he let me see him once more-the good, the bad, the wondrous, and the upsetting. He let me in again, and I knew that he'd be waiting patiently for me on Asgard, waiting for me to return and run into his waiting arms. I would fight for him once more.

A part of me was afraid that Ezra had set his sights on Loki. I knew Loki would be safe from him, but the mere thought of the enemy picking out my love was terrifying. Every moment I thought about it, the pain in my abdomen grew exponentially more painful. Ezra had shown himself to be a powerful player when we fought on the bridge that day, but there was nothing that prepared me for his sudden interest in Loki. All I could do was hope that the guards would keep their word to me and alert someone should Ezra make a wrong move. I wanted to know _everything_ he did and everything he said. With Loki in such close proximity, the stakes were even higher. I had faith in him, though. I knew he'd be able to hold his own against Ezra, but when I entertained the idea, a piercing, fire hot pain spread throughout my body and stemmed from the wound on my abdomen, causing my body to tremble in pain. I had been wounded in battle on many occasions, but nothing compared to that.

While Tony spoke with Mrs. Davis, I clutched her hand, watching her son's life like a movie before my own eyes. I felt her pride in each of his accomplishments. I felt her heartache when he was sick or upset. I felt her disappointment when he made choices that she tried to steer him away from. I saw her joy when he straightened himself out, picked himself up, and moved on. I felt her guilt that she wasn't able to give him everything he ever wanted, but I also felt the unconditional love she had for him through it all, and that was all that ever really mattered. I knew that her love for him surpassed all expectations he ever had. Through her memories, I witnessed the man her son grew into. His compassion, empathy, selflessness, and willfulness wasn't because of the new bike she saved up for for months. The purest, most beautiful pieces of his personality were born from the love she showed him time and time again. From the long work hours to the meals she skipped so he never knew what hunger felt like to the times when she decided she was too full for the last piece of her favorite dessert because she knew he wanted it, I saw the purest love there was: the love a mother had for her child.

It felt like a knife to my heart.

The pain I felt when I grasped her hand was familiar, and I wished to take it away for her. I felt the weight on her shoulders and the guilt that she hadn't intervened to protect her son. I knew that she had her doubts, that the man who took the lives of others was not the man she raised. The pain within her heart tore into my own until the anger began to creep up. I wanted vengeance. I wanted justice for her son, that hopefully it would atone for some of what I had done, that maybe it would take some of my pain away. The moment I felt that anger building up within me, I silenced it, focusing every ounce of my power on her. As I pulled up her most peaceful, tranquil memories of her son, I felt her mind begin the process of restoring her broken heart. My body felt strained as I tried to take her pain from her, but I clenched my jaw and continued through it, pulling up the most beautiful memories she had. Each second that passed when I was using my...gifts, the pain in my abdomen grew worse and worse, but I would take the weight of the world on my shoulders just so that she could experience a moment of serenity in the midst of the chaos. The pain I endured was nothing compared to hers. Experience taught me that.

As the burden of her son's death was lifted from her shoulders, her grief-stricken eyes met mine, and she recognized me. While she didn't say my name or call attention to my identity, she knew who I was, just like Harley did when we first met. We sat in a silent moment of appreciation for one another. I appreciated her willingness to speak with us in the first place, and she appreciated what I had done for her. We were trapped in a mutual understanding with one another. We both knew what it was like to lose. She hadn't expected me to use my "talents" to aid her, but there was an unspoken word of thanks that was exchanged through her gaze. Tony's voice pulled her attention from me, and I engaged in the conversation once more, desperately trying to push aside the pain, "Mrs. Davis, your son didn't kill himself. I guarantee you, he didn't kill anyone," he insisted, pushing the file back over to the grieving woman. Her puffy eyes filled with more tears as she tried to process his words, but before she could ask what he meant, Tony explained, "someone used your son as a weapon."

Her eyes searched his, looking for any amount of dishonesty. She didn't want to be filled with false hope, not when so much was at stake. I knew that she didn't want to think her son was a killer-no parent would-but when she was faced with evidence that was presented as facts, she was left no other choice but to try to piece it all together. She let out a pent up breath, "you're not the person that called me after all, are you?" she asked, reaching across the table to grasp Tony's arm.

Before she could reach him, the woman Tony and I encountered outside of the bar slammed a badge down onto the table in front of us. My eyes scanned the badge. Ellen Brandt. Upon gaining the attention of the three of us, she smirked over at Mrs. Davis, "actually, I am," she noted before grabbing Tony's arm. In one swift motion, she had Tony bent over the table, his left arm twisted behind his back.

I shot up from my seat, "take your hands off of him, _now_!" I demanded, the fury rising in my chest. It was the same rage that bubbled up within me when I fought on the battlefield. There was a part of me that craved destruction and death, part of me that wanted to hurt those who threatened the fabric of life. I spent my entire life silencing that piece of myself and embracing peace and harmony. However, no matter how much I hated to admit it, when Brandt put her hands on Tony, that hatred and anger bubbled up again. When she showed no signs of letting him go, I clenched my jaw, my ears beginning to ring. She pulled Tony up once she secured the handcuffs around his wrists, and I closed the space between us, stepping around the table. My voice lowered, "remove them or they will be removed," I growled, a fire surging through me that could burn through entire galaxies.

Her brown eyes flickered over to mine, and she shrugged her shoulders, "no problem," she smirked before pushing Tony down to the floor. She was rough with him, handling him without an ounce of gentleness. It only awakened the primal anger within me even more.

I narrowed my eyes at her as a man approached us, looking to be part of the small town's law enforcement. As the two interacted, I gave Tony a once over to make sure he wasn't injured. There were no injuries that he sustained in the quick altercation with Brandt, but it still didn't sit well with me. He began moving to push himself back up off the floor, but every sense in my body told me that something wasn't right. There was a part of me that just knew that something was about to happen, that we wouldn't leave here unscathed. I motioned for him to stay put, not wanting him to be hurt in the crossfire. His was a life I would never be willing to risk. He furrowed his eyebrows in response to the unspoken direction I gave him, not understanding why I wanted him to stay down. The man was a genius, but there were times when he lacked perception.

I finally turned my attention back to the conversation between Brandt and the officer, who looked to be losing his patience quickly, "well, why don't you get on the horn to Nashville and, uh, upgrade me?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Alright. You know what?" Brandt asked with a sigh, gripping her badge tightly, "I was hoping to do this the smart way, but, uh, the fun way is always good," she remarked, her skin beginning to glow as if there was a fire lit beneath it. I furrowed my eyebrows, but I had no time to process the new information before she used her badge to burn the officers face while he was distracted by giving orders to his men.

My first thought was Tony and the promise I made to his father before he was even born. I ran to his side and lifted him from the floor, dragging him to the exit as the screams erupted at the sound of her two consecutive gunshots. I glanced behind us to see that she had killed both officers. Her eyes scanned around the room at the frantic people who were finding cover and running out of the bar if possible, "what are you doing?" Tony asked as I pushed him toward the door.

"Get out of here!" I demanded, not willing to risk his life the same way I was willing to risk mine. Brandt would target more people, and I couldn't bear to see anymore souls delivered to death that night. Not when I had the power to stop it.

Tony shook his head, "I'm not leaving without you," he argued.

I sighed, turning my attention over to Brandt who had eyes set on the two of us. She raised her gun and took a shot. In the split second between her pull of the trigger and the time it took for the bullet to reach Tony and I, I pivoted my body, shielding Tony as best I could. I squeezed my eyes shut, clenched my jaw, and balled my hands up into fists in anticipation for the initial burning, but there was nothing. She had been aiming directly at Tony when she pulled the trigger, so there was no way she missed it. Upon opening my eyes, I saw that Tony was frozen in shock, his eyes wide as he stared at me. When I turned around to face Brandt, I noticed that she shared the same look in her eyes, as if she feared me. I glanced back at Tony, "get these people out of here, then we'll leave together," I compromised, knowing that he wouldn't leave without me no matter how much we argued about it. I was prepared to meet my end in that bar if it meant he was protected.

He gave me a quick nod, and I reached behind him, snapping the cuffs from his wrists. Turning around, my eyes locked with Brandt's, and the fear that had once been in her eyes began to die away. I narrowed my eyes at her, knowing that this would be a battle neither of us would win. I would lose a piece of myself if I was forced to kill her, and she would lose to me no matter what. I shook my head, desperately hoping she would listen to reason, "this doesn't need to end like this," I reminded her, wanting to do whatever I could to talk her down. Killing needed to be my very last option. While I could put her down without much of a struggle, I couldn't resort to that without trying to reason with her first.

She snickered, "I won't be meeting my end today...but _you _will," she threatened, raising her gun once more, aiming at me this time.

I nodded my head, "so be it," I sighed, pushing Tony out from behind me before I grabbed her wrist, turned into her, and twisted the gun from her hand. In the struggle, she fired off two shots directly into the wall. If Tony had remained behind me, she would've shot him. The screams around me only fueled my anger. Like Loki had once done, Brandt was jeopardizing the lives of the innocent, but unlike the situation with Loki, I would break her if need be. Once I relieved her of her firearm, I pulled the clip from it, emptied the chamber, and threw it at the window. The force caused the window to shatter, and the gun landed on the street outside. Knowing that she would have to take me on without her weapon, she raised her fists, and I noticed that they glowed just as her skin did before it all began. It was like there was a fire beneath her skin, but mine was hotter.

As she lunged at me, I ducked out of her way, blocking each of her blows. She was fast. With my wounds, I was slower than usual. Had I only been burdened with the wound Ezra inflicted on the bridge, I would've been faster. I could've subdued her quickly. However, I still had the wound in my back, causing every movement to burn even hotter than before. I fought through it, the pain only propelling me forward. Every quick movement, every blocked attack, every step was like someone was tearing me open and lighting my insides on fire. She lunged at me once more, managing to grab my throat. She was stronger than the average Midgardian, but there was something special about her. She was gifted. Her hand around my throat burned my skin, but before I could push her away, she threw my body against the wall as if I was light as a feather. I skimmed over a table before hitting the wall, and when my back connected, I realized just how much force she used to throw me. The wind was knocked out of me for a moment.

I choked, trying to pull the air back into my lungs as I massaged my throat. A fleeting thought crossed my mind that I would've been better off to just give up, that it wasn't worth it. Tony could handle himself. I had only intervened a few times throughout his life, but he was more than capable. That thought was tossed out the window as soon as Brandt turned and set her sights on Tony who was finishing his task of clearing people out of the bar. I pushed my body up, fighting through the pain once more. Now, it was my turn to provoke her. I grabbed the table she threw me across, and I lifted it up before throwing it at her. The table crashed against her back, breaking into pieces. She turned back around to face me, completely unfazed by the attack, "you just won't stay down, will you?" she asked, her fists glowing even brighter than before.

I shrugged, "I've been told I'm a real pain in the ass," I remarked, recalling what Tony told to me the previous night. I sighed, knowing that this had to be the end, "this is your last chance to make the right choice. Stop, and you will live. Continue, and I will be forced to break you," I fumed. She smirked, and I knew that she had already made her choice. I nodded my head, saddened by what was to come. However, she pushed me to my breaking point, and I would no longer hold back when it came to her. I would still do everything in my power to subdue her, but I would no longer be on the defensive. I ran at her, tackling her down to the ground. The heat from her body burnt my skin, but they healed just as quickly as they had appeared.

As I tried to wrestle her into submission, my focus faltered when I checked on Tony's progress. I noticed that he was escorting the last person from the bar. Brandt took advantage of my lack of concentration, and she twisted our bodies, securing her place above me. He hands wrapped around my neck once more, and she began choking me. Her strength was impressive, but I was trained by one of the greatest warriors Asgard has ever seen, a man who just so happened to be my father. Aaldir taught me that brute strength was important at times, but speed, endurance, and technique were more valuable in the long run. As she focused all of her energy on choking me, I grabbed one of her arms, pivoted my body beneath her, hooked one of my legs around her neck, and slammed her body to the floor. Maintaining control of her arm between my legs, I thrust my hips upward, snapping her arm in half.

While she yelled out in pain, I pushed myself away from her, rubbing my neck. She groaned as she pushed herself up to her feet with her good arm, "you _bitch_!" she roared, closing the space between us. As I tried to push myself back up, she took the opportunity to land a hard kick against my abdomen, causing me to scream out in pain. The kick only aggravated the wound that was already there, and it caused such an unbelievable pain that caused the world to fade away for a short second.

"Hey, hot wings, you want to party?" I heard Tony's voice from the entrance of the bar. Brandt turned her attention back over to him, which was exactly what he wanted. I could've screamed at him for his stupidity in that moment. He motioned for her to join him, "come on. You and me, let's go," he taunted her, causing her to close the space between them. Once she got close enough, he ran out of the bar, and I found the strength, once more, to push myself up off the floor of the bar.

I groaned out in pain and gripped my abdomen as I ran out of the bar. I knew what Tony was doing, and if I didn't care for him as much as I did, I would've found it to be endearing. He wanted to protect me, to draw her attention away from me in order to keep me safe, but that wasn't his job. _I_ was meant to protect _him_, not the other way around. I couldn't live with myself if he was hurt in order to protect me, not when his life meant so much more than mine. I was an orphan, a girl with no name. Tony had a role in the great war to come, the war that Thanos would undoubtedly bring to Midgard at some point. When I looked through Loki's memories, I saw what Thanos desired, and I knew that he would find his way to Earth someday. I hoped that it wasn't in Tony's lifetime, but I knew that he was meant for _something_. I wasn't.

As I stumbled out of the bar, a snowball whizzed past my head. My eyes followed it, and it landed on a man who was aiming at Tony as he ran across the street. When the snowball hit him, he lost his aim and fired at the window of a store across the street, missing Tony completely. My eyes followed his, and I saw Harley, desperately trying to find a place to hide. I could sense how much that boy loved Tony, how much he looked up to him. I knew that seeing his hero die would break him, and he was willing to risk his own life to protect Tony. We had that in common. When I noticed the fear in Harley's eyes, I turned my attention back to the man who tried to shoot at Tony, and what I saw shook me to my core. He aimed his gun directly at Harley, his finger on the trigger.

There had only been one other moment in my life when I felt more fear, the time I almost lost _her_. I didn't understand why the fear of losing Harley was so high up on the list, but it was. My body trembled, and I lost all sense of myself. There was no way I could protect him, no way I could jump between him and the bullet. Still, I had to try. Right before he could pull the trigger, a burst of pure fear and rage exploded out of me, "_NO_!" I screamed, the Earth beneath my feet beginning to quake, as if she was experiencing my feelings with me. I felt the pure terror rise up within me, and a power I had never felt before, coursed through my veins. I held out my hand, a black and red blast of energy shooting from my palm and hitting the man in the chest. The force of it sent him flying back, and I fell to my knees, suddenly weak.

I caught myself before I fell on my face, and I heaved. My ears rang as I tried to compose myself. In my state of shock, I didn't hear the light sound of hurried footsteps over to me. Harley knelt by my side, trying to pull me up, helping me regain balance on my knees. My heart thudded in my chest as I looked down at my trembling hands, wondering what had just happened. Nothing like that had ever occurred before. I practiced magic with Frigga and Loki all my life, and I had become talented in the art of sorcery. However, there was no explanation for this. I didn't have powers. I was just an average Asgardian. I learned the art of sorcery, since Frigga believed I had been born with a gift and talent for it. I wanted to read into what happened, but I couldn't. I didn't have time, not when Tony's life was on the line. As I realized the depth of the situation I was in, my ears stopped ringing, and I regained my composure and control. My eyes locked with Harley's, and I noticed that he was visibly shaken by what he had seen from me, "you need to leave, Harley. I need you to go home, lock yourself inside with Kaia, and stay there until we get back," I ordered him, feeling so much like my father.

He shook his head, tears filling his eyes instantly, "what about you?" he asked, his bottom lip quivering as fear of the unknown overcame him.

"I need to be here to help Tony with this, but I can't do my job unless you do yours, okay?" I asked, tilting my head as I cupped his cheeks in my hands.

He squeezed his eyes shut, a stray tear falling down his cheek. I wiped it away as quickly as I could, my heart breaking at the thought of potentially never seeing him again. When he opened his eyes, his eyes held every ounce of sadness in the world, "I can't go without you," he whimpered.

I smiled through the tears, feeling the absolute love he had for me. It was pure and beautiful, a ray of light in the darkest corners of my heart. Harley had one of the biggest hearts I had ever known on Midgard, and I couldn't allow that goodness to be extinguished. I needed to protect him at all costs, "do you remember why I came here?" I asked, stroking his cheeks.

"To protect people," he answered, breathing through the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes.

I nodded my head, "you're one of those people, too, Harley. I want to protect you just like I want to protect Tony. The only way I can protect you is by sending you home. As soon as this is over, we'll make our way back to the shack, but you can't be here for this. I can't risk losing you, too, okay?" I asked, thinking of the ones I couldn't save. Harley couldn't be on that list. When he finally nodded, I pressed my forehead against his own, calming his mind, "now, I need you to run home as fast as you can. Don't look back, don't slow down, just run, okay?" I asked.

He nodded his head once more, "promise you'll come back," he urged me.

"I'm going to try," I replied, not wanting to get his hopes up, but I also wanted him to know that I was going to do everything in my power to make it back to him. I stood up from the ground, urging him in the direction of his house, and he began running. I turned my attention back toward the store Tony had found his way into, and the moment my eyes caught the fire raging in the building, the explosion happened, and my heart stopped. It felt like my world collapsed in on me once more, and that sinking feeling crept back up. The universe realized that I was being given too much, and I was in need of a readjustment. I had a piece of Loki back; therefore, Tony must be taken away. Tears sprang to my eyes at the thought of losing him, of losing my link to the woman I was once, to the people I loved so dearly.

I scrambled up to my feet, stumbling over to the building as the fear, anger, rage, and absolute despair built up within me. I felt weaker than ever before, but in that weakness, I found such an incredible power rising within me as well. A stray tear cascaded down my cheek as I made my way over to the building, afraid of what I could find. I didn't know if I could handle the sight of him if Death had truly claimed him, but even if she did, I would fight her until the very end to ensure his safety and security. He was like a son to me, and I had failed too many people to fail him as well. My body trembled as if there was a pressure building up within me that I couldn't release. When I finally reached the back of the building, my eyes landed on him as he stood upright, clearly shocked by what had just happened, "oh, God," I breathed out, sprinting over to him and throwing my arms around his body and holding him as tightly as I could without breaking him, "I thought I lost you," I explained, my voice quivering almost as much as my body was.

He gathered me in his arms, holding me the same way I held him. He held me like he was prepared to be my armor, like he would be the impenetrable wall between me and any danger. That terrified me. The fear I had when I _thought_ I lost him was more than enough to drive me over the edge. I had no idea what would've happened to me if he was ripped away from me. I had lost too much to lose him as well. I pulled away from him just enough to give him the once over. My hands grazed his cheeks as I focused my energy on transferring his wounds to me if there was any. The second he realized what I was doing, he pulled away from me, grabbing my hands to stop me from healing him, "stop, just...let me carry these," he insisted, his dark brown eyes pleading with mine.

Right before I could argue with him, there was a loud creaking sound radiating from the water tower, causing Tony to jump. I could feel his anxiety building up as our eyes locked on the water tower that began to tip toward us ever so slightly. One of the metal beams that held it upright was glowing red, much like Brandt's skin did when we fought. It was heating up..._melting_. I grunted, "you have _got_ to be kidding me," I growled, grabbing Tony's arm. His eyes met mine once more, "run," I ordered, and the two of us took off with one another. Naturally, I was faster than him, but I couldn't leave him behind. Behind us, I heard the metal beginning to break like it was as fragile as glass. Upon casting a quick glance over my shoulder, I saw that the tower was plummeting toward the ground. When I looked back at our path, I saw that we were completely cut off. A fence had blocked our escape.

Every scenario ran through my mind in that moment. I could break through the fence and continue running with Tony only to be overcome by the massive amount of water. I could try to shield him from the pressure of the water with my body. I could throw him over the fence and hope that he could make it to safety in time. None of the scenarios stood out to me, but when the water tower finally crashed down and broke open, I knew what needed to be done. It was as if the solution just appeared out of nowhere, even though I wasn't even sure if it would work. I faced the water, grabbing Tony's arm and pushing him behind me. As the massive amounts of water approached us, I knelt down and touched the cold ground with my hands, connecting with the essence of life within the planet itself just as I had when I first arrived. She was still so calm and beautiful, strong and loving. Her life empowered me, our souls still interwoven.

Upon rising from the ground, I opened my eyes and stared directly into the water that approached us, knowing what needed to be done. When I held my hands out, the water stopped on a dime to my utter disbelief. I heard Tony's deep gasp from behind me, and I felt his body fill with amazement. I didn't know how this was happening, how any of my sudden...abilities were happening that night. Perhaps my body just conjured up abilities in order to allow me to keep Harley and Tony safe. However, I couldn't help but ponder Frigga's words that day on the balcony: _You are the balance_. What if she was right? What if she knew something about me that I didn't? This wasn't who I was. I was just Eva, the girl without a place, without a name. I was the orphan. I had no purpose other than the one I made for myself...but what if?

When I saw the glowing silhouette of the man beyond the water, I recognized him as the one who tried to shoot Harley. The heat rose in my chest once more, and my hands balled up into fists, causing the flowing water to begin to shift. Where it had once acted as a gentle flow of water that I controlled, it became like the water in the middle of the ocean during a storm. I clenched my jaw, narrowing my eyes at the stranger as my body began to quake. The pain in my abdomen felt like it was sucking out the very soul from within me. I felt the power draining from me as I continued to hold the water in place, and I noticed a grin on the strangers face. As my vision began to blur, I realized what was happening. I was either going to die or faint. Either way, I couldn't let my attempt to protect Tony be in vain. My hands raised, causing the water to raise with them, and with a scream, I used the last fragment of my power to hurl the waves back at the stranger before my world went black.

"_Eva!" I heard a far away voice, one I heard my entire life. It was my father. As the sound grew louder, I heard the screams, the clanging of swords, the grunts and roars of battle, and my father's voice once more, "Eva get up!" he commanded as his rough, battle broken hands shook my body. My eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the darkness. It felt like the evening had set upon us with the thick clouds in the sky, but I could see hints of light from above. The screams continued to grow louder and louder as my eyes found my father's, "pick up your sword and fight!" he yelled before landing a kick against the chest of an Asgardian warrior with glowing red eyes, sending the warrior falling back. Once he was on the ground, my father lifted his greatsword, Omen, and plunged it deep into the chest of the soldier. The struggling ended, and the red glow in the soldiers eyes faded away._

_I furrowed my eyebrows. These were our people, and he was...killing them. My eyes flickered around the battlefield to see more soldiers with glowing red eyes dressed in Asgardian armor. I knew some of them. Magni, Leif, Erna, Sten, and Ingvild. Men and women I once fought beside were slaughtering my people. They were being fought off by Sif, Ephinea, Thor, even Loki. It was a dream the moment I saw his face. This was all a dream. Loki would never fight alongside Thor again, and the only way he would've been released from the dungeons would be if I broke him out myself. Asgardian soldiers fought each other, but as my eyes continued to focus, I noticed a stark difference between the two, aside from their eyes. The soldiers with glowing red eyes had received mortal wounds that looked to still be fresh. Before I had time to process it, my father kicked my sword over to me, "pick up your sword and fight!" he demanded, his voice trembling with a fear I hadn't heard in him at any other point. I fought alongside my father, and I witnessed him in such utter distress, but something left him with pure terror rising up within him._

_I shook my head, desperately wanting to let go, "I can't. It's over," I realized aloud, my eyes fluttering closed again. The wound on my abdomen made me hiss out in pain as it continued to fester and pull the life right out of me. I couldn't even entertain the idea of getting up and fighting anymore. My entire life was spent fighting, and it was time for me to lay down, fall asleep, and allow the universe to swallow me whole. The book was over. This was the end._

"_It's not over until you give up!" my father yelled, kneeling down next to me. His eyes were stern as they had often been through our childhood, but that never diminished the love he had for us. He showed us all the love in the world, more than we deserved, but he raised us to be strong and capable. He raised us into people who showed love even when that was the hardest thing to do, but he also turned us into some of the fiercest warriors in Asgard. He taught us that fighting and bloodshed should be the very last resort, but if it came to that, he prepared us to be lethal. He reached down between us and cupped his hand over my cheek. In that moment, I took in the severity of his wounds. He had been injured, but he was still fighting. He sighed, "I taught you how to walk, how to speak, how to hunt, how to fight, how to __lead__. I never taught you to surrender. Giving up isn't in your blood," he explained, his thumb stroking my cheek. My eyes began to flutter closed as my hearing faded once more. The sky felt as if it was crushing my body into the ground beneath me. It felt like I was being suffocated. Another shake from my father caused my body to seize slightly, the pain coursing through me once more. I gritted my teeth as he spoke, "now, I know it hurts, but if anyone can handle the pain, it's you. You're the best warrior Asgard has ever seen, and there's more potential in you than you know. You can do so much more if you let go and accept who you're meant to be, Eva, not what you've been __told __you can be or the person you've been reduced to. You're my daughter, my little wolf, but you must also accept where you come from. Your blood makes you powerful, and Asgard needs that right now. Your home, your people, your family...we need __you__," he explained, his eyes filled with so much hope, so much desperation._

_I coughed, tasting the blood on my tongue, "I'm tired of fighting," I confessed, reaching my hand up to cup his own. Upon seeing my own hand, I noticed the bright red blood smeared across my skin. I didn't know if it was mine or someone else's, but it made my stomach churn._

"_And yet the battle wages on with or without you," he reminded me, "rest only comes after the battle. I will not bury you with your brother, so you will stand up and fight with me until the very end!"_

_I shook my head, ready to argue with him, ready to unsheathe one of my daggers and plunge it into my own heart to avoid the battle. I had suffered long enough, and for what? I lost everything I loved anyway. I lost so many friends along the way. I lost Hjalmar. I lost Loki more times than I could count, and I was bound to lose him again. I lost myself. I lost it all. Every ounce of fight I once had was spent. It was over. Then, there was a scream, a cry for help, a familiar voice on the battlefield. My eyes crossed the battlefield to see a man I'd never seen before but a man who was familiar to me nonetheless. He had long black hair and piercing green eyes. They were the color of spring. I knew those eyes. Ezra had the same mad look in his emerald eyes. This was the man he spoke of: Cul, his father. My breath hitched in my throat as my eyes caught sight of who was in his grasp._

_Her__._

_So many questions began to fill my mind. I knew this was a dream, a hallucination, but it had been so long since I'd seen her. Her face only showed itself to me in my most beautiful dreams or my most vivid, terrifying nightmares. I always dreamt that I had her back in my arms or that I lost her once more. No matter what, when I fell asleep, I dreamt of her. No matter how hard I tried to forget her, she was there in the depths of my mind like a raging fire that I had no hope of stopping. Her crystal-like green eyes met mine, and she wept, reaching out for me like she had only once before, like she had on the day I abandoned her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and I gritted my teeth, fighting back my grief of seeing her once more._

"_She needs you, Eva, whether you accept that or not. Even though you don't see it, you've never failed her. You've never failed me. You've never failed your home. Are you going to start now? Or are you going to fight with me?" my father asked, the fire in my heart lighting once more._

_I nodded my head, gazing back up at him as he rose to his feet. I reached out my hand, ready to die if it meant she would be safe, "until the very end," I promised._

_He grasped my hand and pulled me up onto my feet, steadying me, acting as my anchor just as he always did throughout my life, "I've got you, little wolf. Everything's going to be okay," he promised me, acting as my foundation, my rock, my steady ground. Now, it was time for me to be hers._

* * *

***Tony's POV***

As the attackers body was thrown backward at the force of the small repulsor blast, Harley took the chance to sprint over to Eva's body. Everything happened so quickly that I didn't get the chance to check to see if she was alright, if she was even alive. I watched as Harley fell to his knees by Eva's side, and he began shaking her. She looked more peaceful than I'd ever seen her before, but my heart was in my throat as I realized that her peace could've meant my loss. I loved her both selfishly and unselfishly. I knew the pain and suffering she had gone through, I knew what she had lost, but the selfish part of me wanted her to continue living for as long as I did. I couldn't bear losing her because it would be like losing the last good piece of myself. The unselfish part of me was the part that loved her the most, though. It was the part of me that made me wish for the very best for her no matter what that meant for me. If I was approached by any supreme entity that promised her happiness in exchange for my life, I'd hand myself over in a heartbeat. I loved her in a way that I'd never been able to love myself, and she loved me more powerfully and unselfishly than almost anyone else. The only other person who loved me that much was my mother.

As I realized what I'd be losing if I lost Eva, I scrambled over to her body, the weight of the situation finally sinking in. Harley threw his body against hers, gripping onto her like a child would their mother. That was when I finally realized what she meant to him. They shared a connection that I couldn't quite put my finger on, but as time passed, I realized that he looked at her as his shield, his protection, his person, his mother. It didn't take a genius to piece together what was going on in his home. From some of his comments to the bruises on his arms that were visible for only a fraction of a second, I knew that he had been in dire need for protection all his life. Even though someone had given birth to him, he didn't have a mother, and he took to Eva like an animal imprinting on its mother. He sat up, pushing the hair from her face before wiping his eyes, "wake up!" he sobbed as he shook her. He was having a complete breakdown, and there were no words I could say to make it better. There was nothing I could do to take his pain away, and it tore me apart inside, "you promised!" he wept, his body trembling as if he was being torn apart on the inside.

My heart began to thud as she still wasn't showing any signs of waking up. This couldn't be the end for her. Nothing happened to her. She had been acting slightly strange since she got here, but I figured it was because she was still coming to terms with being back on Earth. She had promised to stay away, that she would fall apart if she came back. That was what was happening right in front of my eyes. She fell apart, and I didn't know how to put her back together. She wasn't breathing, she wasn't breathing, she was just completely still aside from Harley shaking her. I shook my head, "Eva, don't do this. Don't leave me like this," I sniffled, tears beginning to stream freely down my cheeks. I didn't care about how I looked or how weak the tears made me seem. All I cared about was her. I reached out for her hand, gripping onto it like Harley was gripping onto her. My bottom lip quivered as I felt no sign of life from her, "you...you can't die," I trembled.

As I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately trying to will it away, I heard a soft voice whispering words that brought me back to my childhood, "nothing ever really dies, it simply retires for a little while only to return again when we need it most," Eva whispered in a soft, weak voice. The memory of that day rushed right back to me. I had been sitting on the back porch of my childhood home after school. One of my classmates parents had died, and I was trying to process the meaning of it. Eva sat down beside me, and I could remember asking her if she would die. She whispered those same words to me and told me that she'd never be far away from me. When I finally heard those words, my eyes shot open, and I took in the sight before me. Harley had even sat up to take her in, to make sure he wasn't dreaming. I clapped my hand over my mouth, trying to hold back the wave of emotions that crashed down on top of me. Her green eyes scanned both of us but landed on Harley first, "I told you to go home," she murmured, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek.

He shook his head, tears continuing to stream down his cheeks, "it's not home without you," he confessed, causing my heart to twist in my chest. Even in our short time knowing each other, he took to her like I'd never witnessed before. They were meant to find each other.

Eva reached up and wiped the tears from his cheeks as tears began to form in hers. When they fell, it was like stars falling from the night sky. She could sense his pain, it was a talent she had since the first day I met her. It was like she could tune into the essence of a person and feel exactly what they were feeling; it was empathy on a whole other level. Harley let out a shaky breath and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. She closed her eyes, and a light smile spread across her lips as she basked in the love he had for her, which only strengthened the love she had for him. It took a moment, but once she opened her eyes, they connected with mine, "are _you _okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned with my well-being when she was the one who nearly died.

I nodded my head, sucking in a sharp breath in an attempt to collect myself. The thought that I came so close to losing her, to losing someone so pivotal in my life, it tore me apart. Her life had been put in question far too many times, and this time, it was to save me. Her hand grasped my free one as tightly as she could manage, catching my eyes. She knew how afraid I was of losing her because she was just as afraid of losing me. Once I found the strength to speak, I cleared my throat, "you're such a pain in the ass," I trembled, my voice breaking as my emotions betrayed me. I thought I had a handle on them enough to speak, but I didn't. I clapped my hand over my mouth as I began crying tears of overwhelming grief, fear, and joy all at once. There were so many emotions that were bottled up that came to the surface in that moment.

As soon as the first tear fell, Eva sat up with Harley still attached to her side, hugging her. Her face twisted in pain, but she pushed through it. Once she was sitting up, she grasped the back of my neck and pulled my face close to hers, pressing our foreheads together until our noses brushed against each others. Her hand moved from behind my neck to cup the side of my face, stroking my cheek with her thumb and brushing away the stray tears. As she held me, I felt myself growing calmer by the second, and I knew she had a hand in that. There were gifts that she was given, gifts that I could never know the range of. She leaned into my ear, the side of her face brushing against my own, "you're the reason I came back to Midgard, and you're one of the reasons why I can't let go," she whispered before pulling away from me just enough to catch my gaze. The most beautiful smile in the universe spread across her lips and made me feel at ease for the first time in such a long time.

Then, like all good moments in my life, this one ended just as quickly as it began. Her body convulsed, and her face twisted in pain as her eyes filled with tears. Harley pulled away from her right before she threw herself back onto the ground, her chest heaving as she groaned out in pain. She clung to her abdomen, and it finally made me take notice of the spotted blood on her shirt. There were no tears in her clothes, but there was still blood. I reached out as she whimpered, her jaw clenching and a permanent frown finding her lips. My hand grasped the hem of her shirt, and I lifted it up, wanting to see what I could do to help. I wasn't as talented as Bruce when it came to the medical field, but I wasn't inept. However, upon lifting her shirt, I saw what had been hiding beneath all this time. It was clear that she was experiencing pain since she had arrived, but it didn't seem serious. When I saw the wound on her abdomen, though, I realized just how wrong I had been.

* * *

***Eva's POV***

My vision blurred as I tried to focus on Tony. His eyes scanned the wound on my abdomen that throbbed and left me useless for the moment. I tried to breathe through the pain, but it wasn't taking it away. I was still uncertain of what happened to make it hurt so bad. I'd experienced worse flesh wounds than that one. I'd been stabbed before. I'd been cut, choked, shot, and beaten. I was a warrior of Asgard, so I knew pain, but every ounce of pain I'd felt before meant nothing compared to this. The pain of a mere slash shouldn't have amounted to much, and it should've healed quickly. However, this one had festered. Tony's eyes filled with fear, which was the last thing I expected from him. The wound was disgusting, so I expected him to be taken aback by it. It looked like that part of my body was slowly decaying. Just as the throbbing pain stopped and the more constant burn kicked back in, my head fell back against the ground, and I worked on catching my breath. Tony's eyes locked with mine, "what happened?"

"Before I came here, I was wounded in battle. I thought it would heal, but...it hasn't even started. It's just gotten worse," I answered through labored breaths, "it was this, or he was going to kill one of my closest friends. I couldn't let that happen."

"Are you going to be okay?" Harley's worried voice sounded from beside me. I gazed up at him, feeling like the luckiest being in the universe with him looking at me with so much concern. I was lucky that I was loved even after all I had done. Still, the care that he had for me could hurt him, just like my love for him could hurt me. Upon my inability to answer his question, he looked to Tony, "is she gonna be okay?" he asked, desperation filling his voice as he looked for an answer.

Tony nodded his head before his eyes caught mine, "if I have anything to do with it, she will be," he promised, speaking to both of us. I wasn't afraid to die, but I knew that I had to fight for the sake of the people I vowed to protect. Tony was one of them.

I gazed up at Harley, "don't worry about me. I'm gonna be alright," I insisted, trying to give him as much hope as possible. I didn't want him to fear my death, even if I was about to draw my last breath. Death would come for each and every living being at some point, so to fear her when the time came made no difference. My hand found his smaller one, and his bloodshot eyes found mine, shattering my heart.

His eyes narrowed at me, "you promised not to leave me!" he shouted, his voice cracking in desperation. My near death hurt him in ways that I couldn't understand.

I shook my head, "and I didn't," I reminded him.

"You almost did!" he snapped, pulling his hand away from mine as he frantically dried the tears from his face. He sniffled, "you almost left me alone, and I don't want to be alone anymore!"

The moment he spoke those words, I realized exactly what our relationship was. I knew that the mother/child feeling that I had for him wasn't one-sided, and it took that moment for me to recognize what had been sitting right before me all that time. He reciprocated those feelings. He felt just as deeply for me as I did for him. I couldn't discourage him from them or try to push him away because it would only hurt him, and I _refused_ to be one of the people who hurt him, "in your life, there are going to be people who leave you, but that's when you need to be stronger than ever before. Those are the moments, the moments when it seems like the whole world is falling apart, that you need to gather yourself and carry on. I may not be around forever," I confessed, causing him to shake his head in denial. I reached up, my hand grazing his cheek, "I may not be around forever, but when my time comes, I want to know that you can make it through whatever life throws your way. I want to know that you're prepared for whatever comes next because you're a warrior, little one. You can make it without me."

His bottom lip quivered, "but I don't want to," he whimpered, wearing every emotion on his face. In his sadness, he looked away from me, almost as if he was ashamed to be feeling so much sorrow and anger. It was sincere, though. I nearly died, and he was justified in his anger. I put myself in a dangerous situation, which-regardless of my intentions-could've gotten me killed. I had almost broken my promise to him, and that would've torn him apart. I knew what this was like. I'd been in similar situations before.

"Harley, look at me," I insisted, trying to reach his face. He pulled away even further, and I knew that if I didn't intervene, he would pull away emotionally as well. I gave up trying to turn his head and settled for grabbing his small hand in mine, "look at me," I urged him once more before those sad eyes locked with mine. I knew that look. I'd given that look to my brother countless times before we went into battle. Loki and I gave it to each other on more occasions than I could count. I knew what it was like to lose, but I needed to let Harley know that he'd never lose _me_. I told him the same words Hjalmar once told me, words I told Loki, Steve, Tony, and _her_. I swallowed hard, hot tears stinging my eyes, "_nothing_-not even death-could keep me away from you. Even when I meet death, know that I'm always right by your side. Every breeze you feel rush past you, the warmth you feel when the rays of light from the sun hit your skin, the star that lights your way home: that's me. I'm never gone, Harley, not from you. Do you understand that?"

Just as he nodded his head, another surge of pain made it feel like my body was being torn in half, like I was being ripped apart from the inside. The pain was so intense that my vision began to blur again. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to will away the pain, trying to regain control of my own body. Instead, the pain, like the buzzing in my ears, grew louder and louder, stronger and stronger. It was like I was fighting a losing battle. No matter what I did, I was going to fail. Just as quickly as the pain started, it faded with the noise. When I opened my eyes, I was in the middle of the throne room, and he stood directly in front of me. Ezra. Familiar green eyes, strong facial features, and long hair that matched the color of my own. He was a beautiful man with the build of a God. However, the madness left him looking sick, like Loki did in New York. It was clear that he hadn't always looked like that, like he hadn't eaten or slept in weeks. The madness took time to settle in, and I'd weed it out if I could, if he gave me the chance.

Ezra paced back and forth in front of the throne, not looking at it, not attempting to sit in it, not even fighting an urge to touch it. He wasn't king, and he didn't want the throne. Still, he guarded it like a predator guarding its fresh kill. His eyes scanned along the edge of one of his daggers as he spoke to me, "the way I see it, you have two options," he stated, a twisted smile forming on his face as he sheathed the dagger and turned his attention to me, his eyes almost glowing with hatred, "your first option is you come back to Asgard, set me free, we leave together peacefully, and I fix that festering wound on your abdomen," he explained with arrogance in his voice as he gestured to where the source of my pain came from. He shrugged his shoulders, "your second-_less appealing_-option is you stay away from Asgard, I break out of this cell, kill every last one of these scum, including your beloved Loki, find _her_, kill all of your friends, make you watch as I slaughter _her_, and then force you to come with me anyway. Either way, I win. You just have a say in how many lives are lost over this."

I narrowed my eyes at him, furious that he would call _her_ into this, "you don't know where she is. _I_ don't even know where she is!"

"You think your ignorance hinders me?" he chuckled, descending the steps to stand directly in front of me. He grabbed my neck and pulled me close to him, close enough so that his breath cascaded across my face. His hands felt...familiar, just as his eyes had. His presence felt right in the strangest way, but I couldn't understand it. I wasn't afraid of him. Even as he gripped my throat tightly, threatening to squeeze the life from me, I wasn't afraid of him, "I'm a God!" he yelled before tossing me back, my body hitting the floor.

"No! You're a monster!" I yelled, rising to my feet and closing the space between us once more. The pain subsided. Every ounce of joy, love, and compassion just evaporated into nothing. It left me with nothing but my rage. He threatened _her_ life, the lives of people I cared about. He was a threat-a coal that threatened to burn down all that I loved, and I would stomp it out no matter what. I reached between us, my hand gripping his throat just as he had done to me only a moment prior, "and if you even _think _about laying your hands on her, there will be no place for you to run, nowhere for you to hide. I will tear open the universe looking for you. I will find you no matter the cost, and when I do, you'll beg me for a painful, torturous death when you see what I do to you," I growled, the anger and rage threatening to tear me apart.

"_This_...this is who you're meant to be," he noted, a smile forming on his lips as he gestured down to my hand that was clasped around his throat. My eyes widened when I saw what happened to them. I ripped my hand away from his throat, and I stared down at both of them as the anger continued to flow freely through me. The veins in my hands glowed red just like his had when we fought each other that day. I shook my head in disbelief. Something was wrong with me. My mouth fell open as I looked for words to explain it away. Any explanation would suffice, but I would not believe that I was like him, that I was cursed. Before I had the chance to speak, he chuckled, "I'm eagerly awaiting your decision, Eva."


	17. Two Sides of the Same Coin

***Eva's POV***

I stood in the nearly barren throne room. Odin stood atop the stairs in front of his throne with Frigga standing on the right of the throne and my father on the left. Aaldir's eyes, I noticed, were filled with unshed tears and a pain that was unparalleled, a pain I'd only ever seen once before, when I returned home after Hjalmar's death. I felt another presence, but I couldn't place my finger on it. She wasn't present in the room, but I felt the same vibration in my soul that I did whenever her black eyes met mine. Death. There was a familiarity that I couldn't place my finger on, like returning home after a long absence. The smell, the warmth, the little cracks and crevices were all still the same. It was as if you'd never left in the first place. That was what her essence left me with. The visions were becoming more and more vivid, and they were all falling together slowly but surely. Still, I couldn't trust my own mind anymore. Ezra had proven to be powerful enough to invade my mind, so how could I know he wasn't planting the visions? How could I know he hadn't been tampering with my mind from the very beginning?

My eyes trailed over to the man who stood at the base of the steps that led up to the throne. Loki had stood there once, when he was sentenced to live out the rest of his days in the dungeons. I had stood there countless times, trying to argue on behalf of Loki, to somehow dismiss his sentence. I had failed there, too. At the base of the steps stood the same familiar man from my vision of my father, my vision of _her_. His hair was long and black, and he had piercing green eyes. They were the color of spring. It was Cul. His jaw was clenched tightly as he glared up at Odin, "tell me what it is you summoned me for," he demanded, his voice rumbling low in his chest. He spoke with the same rough tone as Ezra did.

Odin smirked, "you speak to your king with contempt when I called you here to make peace," he insisted, his hand clenching one arm of the throne.

Cul's eyes grew wild with an unchecked rage, which was something I saw in Ezra that day in the courtyard, something I sensed within myself when confronting Ezra in my vision. A chill spread through my bones as he continued to address Odin, "I speak to my _brother_ with contempt because of where you threw me for the last century!" he shouted, anger coloring his face red, "but if your offer of peace isn't up to my standards, you can expect me to rain down a destruction upon you and your people that Asgard has never seen before. Don't disappoint me, brother."

Odin turned his attention to my father and gave a slight nod. Aaldir turned on his heel and made his way out of the throne room, his footsteps the only sound that echoed through the massive hall. As my father walked away, Odin's redirected his gaze back at Cul, "not long ago, we received a visit from the Realm of Death, a visit from your mistress. She brought with her a child and asked for us to watch over it and raise it to be one of us, but it came to my attention that the child could never be one of us. The blood running through his veins is that of a monster, of a beast-a _serpent_. It became clear that death and destruction would follow him wherever he went, and I knew that the only way to ensure both his safety and the safety of this realm was to offer him to you in hopes that we could continue in peace," he explained the situation as my father walked back out into the throne room with the baby from one of my other visions in his arms. They were all starting to fall together. Death brought the children, Aaldir fought to raise them in his cottage, Odin demanded one of them, Aaldir decided which one of them to "sacrifice," and now, Odin was offering the child to Cul as an act of goodwill. The act would hopefully bring about a peace between them that hadn't been there prior, even though I didn't know why the two brothers would have so much hatred for one another.

As Cul stood in the throne room, completely speechless, Frigga narrowed her eyes at Odin, "he's not a monster!" she argued, her voice calm yet strained at his clear contempt for an infant.

Before Odin could argue with her, Cul let out a deep sigh, "I have a son," he murmured, still partially in shock. As Cul's eyes landed on the infant in Aaldir's arms, Odin motioned for my father to bring the child to the intruder. A sincere smile spread across Cul's lips, and I saw, for a fleeting moment, purity and light within him. Each of us had our breaking point. The light sometimes gave way to the darkness, and the darkness sometimes gave way to the light. No one was entirely righteous or entirely evil. Cul's darkness gave way to the light in that moment, and there was something special that came to life in me upon seeing that. His eyes followed the infant as Aaldir carried him down the stairs and over to him.

Once my father stood in front of Cul, his jaw clenched as he looked down at the infant one last time with tears filling his deep brown eyes. The pain in his heart was becoming unbearable, and I could practically hear the echo of it breaking. His dark eyes met Cul's green ones, "his name...is Ezra," Aaldir confessed, his voice trembling. My breath caught in my throat. It was impossible. It wasn't true. I refused to believe my visions anymore. It was a trick. Ezra had already proven that he was in my head, so he could've been fabricating all of this. Aaldir continued to speak, "he wakes up as soon as the first rays of light peek over the horizon, but he's quiet until he knows you're awake. You'll know when he's tired because he'll curl his toes and tuck his thumb into his fist. He gets fussy at night. The best way to calm him down is by singing to him or talking to him. He especially loved my daughters voice," he explained, continuing to gaze down at the infant.

"He's talking about you, you know," I heard that familiar voice from right behind me.

I whipped around, my eyes taking in Ezra's strong figure. I narrowed my eyes at him, "get out of my head. You're planting these visions," I accused him.

He shook his head, "you can think that all you want, Eva, but you're wrong. Some of these visions, I'm raising to the surface, yes. Can you honestly tell me that you've never had visions like these before, though?" he asked, stepping closer to me, "can you look me in the eyes and tell me that you didn't feel the connection the moment we met? Can you tell me, truthfully, that you haven't been trying to figure out how I'm able to visit you?" he asked, his voice far calmer than it had been before. His eyes weren't filled with the madness. Instead, he looked at me with sadness and..._loss_.

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering how he could possibly know so much about me, "Loki and I were able to do this all the time," I stated, trying to brush off the weight of his words.

"And it's because you two shared a special connection-a deep, _intimate_ connection that you didn't share with anyone else. The universe brought you two together, forged your souls out of the same dying star and sent you across the universe to hopefully find your way to each other," he explained, perfectly encapsulating my connection to my love, "you and I share a connection as well, Eva. You can't close your mind off to me, and I can't close mine off to you."

I made sure to keep the walls around my mind strengthened because I knew the damage that outsiders could do. I didn't allow anyone safe passage into my thoughts. At one point, though, I did. At one point, Loki was given free reign to journey into my mind, to gaze upon my thoughts, feelings, and memories whenever he wanted. It was our way of sharing every part of ourselves with one another. He gave me access to his mind, and I gave him access to mine. It wasn't until after his fall from grace that I realized how dangerous our connection was. He used that connection and my openness with him to his advantage, and he tore me apart with it. He made me relive some of my most horrible memories, so there came a point when I forced him out and shut my mind away to everyone.

Until Ezra.

When he arrived on Asgard, I couldn't deny the way his eyes perfectly mirrored my own, but that couldn't mean anything. Before I even met him, I had visions of Death, and the questions began to arise. I had never known where I belonged, but Ezra seemed to know all about me. There were too many little details that these visions played into, too many unknown origins that they made clear. I shook my head, "whatever you're implying, whatever connection you're suggesting we have...you're just trying to get in my head. You're just trying to make me question my allegiances and turn against my _home_, my _people_."

"_Our_ home. _Our_ people. I have the same claim to them as you," he insisted, his eyes burning with passion, not anger or rage. It was a depth that I hadn't witnessed from him yet.

"Your father is a _false king_. He doesn't belong on the throne, and you don't belong in Asgard," I growled, "I've fought for my people and would've given my life for them. You have fought and taken the lives of the people you claim to be yours. I've taken care of my home, and you threatened to destroy it. Nothing is _ours_. There is no _us_ or _we_. These are _my_ people, and this is my home...and _you_ aren't welcome here. You and I have no connection," I stressed to him, almost as if I was trying to force myself to believe it even more than I was trying to force him to believe it. It felt as if each time I said it, our connection made more sense.

"We're two sides of the same coin," he insisted, his voice not even straining the slightest bit as he spoke to me. I studied every inch of his body, trying-_hoping_-to pick up on a lie. I didn't find one. He didn't even seem frustrated by my resistance of something he was proposing to be a simple fact.

I shook my head once more, "you're a _monster_!"

He clenched his jaw, and I knew the words had stung him because it was why I said them in the first place. I wanted him to hurt for burdening me with this information, for giving me a small sense of false hope that I would _actually_ find out where I came from, where I belonged. He used one of my greatest weaknesses against me, and I wanted him to hurt for that. His eyes filled with sorrow, "the light sometimes gives way to the darkness, and the darkness sometimes gives way to the light," he murmured, his words an echo of the ones that I'd thought only a few moments prior. My breath hitched in my throat, and he took my moment of speechlessness to continue speaking, "with time, you'll understand. When you come back, when you inevitably make the decision to leave with me, I'll show you who you truly are. You'll have no choice but to accept it."

"You've threatened the only people I care about, destroyed the security of my home, and killed dozens of my people! If I'm faced with only one choice, and that choice is to be _anything_ like you, I'd choose _death_!" I snapped, saying some of the harshest words I could think of. It was one of the few instances that I wanted to hurt someone, to make them feel pain, and when Ezra gave a slight bow of his head, the look in his eyes told me that I had succeeded. While a part of me felt a hint of guilt, I tried to justify it by remembering the way he arrived on Asgard. I had to remember that he started this war, that he was my enemy, nothing more, nothing less.

Aaldir spoke once more, and I turned my attention back to the scene that seemed to bleed into the background while Ezra and I confronted one another. Aaldir's eyes met Cul's once more, "I took care of him as best I could," he trembled, his voice and emotions beginning to fail him at the thought of having to give one of "his" children away. Aaldir had always been partial to broken things, and I was the perfect example of that. The baby in his arms was no different.

The firmness in Cul's features faded. He wasn't a warrior, a serpent, or a monster in that moment. He was a father, a man with a purpose. Cul's eyes filled with understanding as he looked my father up and down as if he were committing Aaldir to memory, "should we ever meet on the battlefield, know that your life will be spared for what you've done for my son. I owe you an unpayable debt."

My eyes widened at his words, and I looked back to question Ezra about them. When I turned to find him, though, he was gone. There had been honor in the words of our enemy, of a man who sent his son to Asgard to take the throne from our king. Even some of Asgard's enemies fought with honor, but I never expected it from him. When I turned back around, the initial vision had fallen away, a new one taking its place. I was back in the courtyard from my previous vision. I looked around frantically, trying to find my father or _her_. I needed to know what was going on. Asgardian soldiers fought one another once more, the aggressors having fatal wounds and glowing red eyes. Across the battlefield, I saw that raven black hair, hair I brushed and braided every morning, afternoon, and night because he never managed to keep it proper. He was fighting them, his body moving fluidly as he dodged, weaved, and attacked. The mere sight of him awakened those familiar butterflies.

Then, just as he always did, he turned around, his eyes searching the crowd of faces to find mine. It only took a second before our eyes locked, a wave of relief washing over both of us. A smile tugged at my lips as that signature grin took over his. Upon seeing the cuts and scratches on the porcelain skin of his face, a sudden urge overcame me. I needed to hold him, to make sure he was okay, to give him a once over and check for any injuries. We hadn't fought alongside one another since before we went our separate ways, and seeing his more superficial injuries reminded me of why I hated fighting on the battlefield with him. It terrified me. I became more caught up in his safety than my own, and that was when people got hurt...or killed.

I scrambled over to the mass of warriors fighting amongst each other, my sword at the ready. As soon as I reached the group, I began taking down every single one of them that stood between me and my love. I cut them down without question, aiding my people as well. As soon as I reached a small clearing, Loki broke through his side of the crowd, and our eyes locked with one another's. His blue eyes matched the color I wore in some form every day. Even after parting from him, I continued to wear that blue. It was a reminder of what I once had, the love I once felt. I grasped Loki's slender hands in my blood covered ones, "get out of here. Go to the forest and wait by the tree for me," I commanded, terrified for his safety.

He shook his head, "I'm not going anywhere without you, Eva. Either you come with me, or we both stay here. Regardless, we're going to be together," he argued, his voice quivering as the adrenaline pumped through him.

"You could die here," I reminded him, already feeling drained from the argument. My muscles were sore from fighting my way through the crowd. I didn't have the energy to argue with him, especially not when the battle was continuing to wage on.

"So could you!" he shouted, searching my eyes to hopefully get me to understand. I knew where he was coming from because I had been there so many times. There were moments when he told me to leave, to run as far away from the fight as I could, and I'd be the one arguing with him. His voice calmed, and he shrugged his shoulders, that charming smirk playing on his lips, "at least we'd die together."

No matter how lighthearted he tried to be, I refused to be swayed by his words. I could be just as stubborn as him, and I wasn't willing to budge on this topic. We always told each other that should we die, we wanted to die together, but I always hoped I would take my final breath even a second before his. I couldn't bear to live in a world without him, but he was strong enough to live in one without me, no matter how much he claimed otherwise. I had lost so much-_sacrificed_ so much-that if I lost him, I'd lose everything. Losing him simply wasn't an option, so I shook my head, a stray piece of hair falling from behind my ear, "I can't let you do this. You need to leave," I dictated, narrowing my eyes at him to let him know that I was serious. He would leave willingly, or I would use every ounce of my power to force him to leave.

Upon seeing my look of determination, he pulled his hands away from my own, cupping my face in those strong, sure hands. He steadied me for what came next. In an instant, his lips were pressed to mine in a kiss that breathed life back into me, a kiss that I'd been without. Even though it was a vision-even though it wasn't real-I had an ounce of his love once more. Though it was fleeting, I still got to breathe in the sweetness of the air. It was a breath of fresh air after nearly drowning. The kiss was shorter than many we shared, but I would take whatever I could get. When he finally pulled away, his eyes held the same wildness I'd fallen in love with, "I've left you enough, Eva. This time, I need to stay," he insisted, a smile spreading across his lips as if he could feel just how hard my heart was pumping. Loki was the only man to make me so flustered, and it never changed, even after we'd been together for a thousand years. When he finally pulled back, realizing that he succeeded in taking my breath away, in taking away my ability to argue back to him, he raised an amused eyebrow, "so, _my queen_, are we running, or are we going to stay and-"

His breath hitched in his throat with a sudden gasp as his body seized up. His eyebrows pulled together, and I watched in confusion as his face twisted in shock. His hands that had been cupping my face latched themselves onto my shoulders to find balance. Fear overcame me as I tried to piece together what happened, "Loki?" I asked, one hand grasping his wrist to keep him steady while the other reached up to stroke his cheek.

"Eva?" he murmured, a small trail of blood cascading down the side of his mouth. Before I had the chance to react, a large hand grabbed Loki's neck and twisted his body around. I watched in horror as Cul pulled the dagger from Loki's back and buried it deep into the heart of my love with one swift motion. My hand flew to my mouth as a gasp escaped my lips. It all happened faster than I could even process anything. It felt like a weight crashing down on top of me as Loki's blue eyes met mine.

I shook my head, Cul pulling the dagger from the heart of the man who held mine with gentle hands for so long. Just as his knees began to buckle beneath him, my arms wrapped around him. I lowered him to the ground as gently as possible, falling to my knees at his side. Tears filled my eyes immediately, but I couldn't cry. The tears refused to fall because I didn't deserve to feel their relief. I should've known that something like this would happen. I should've been prepared for anything, and maybe he wouldn't have been in this situation. If I had planned for every outcome, Cul never would've gotten close enough to hurt him. If I handed myself over to Cul, if I went with Ezra like he wanted...maybe this could be avoided. Perhaps Loki's death was along the road I was already on, so I needed to find a detour.

The beating of my heart ceased just in time for it to be ripped apart as I held the dying body of the love of my life in my arms. My entire body trembled with rage, grief, and an unexplainable loss. I had lost before. I thought I lost Loki once upon a time when he fell from the bifrost. Still, the pain I felt as I held his body in my arms, hoping for a miracle, was indescribable. The pain was enough to shatter worlds, to tear a hole through the universe and let the nothingness seep in. As my heart was torn apart, the ground beneath us began to quake. A power that I'd never felt began to course through my veins like a wildfire, quickly engulfing every inch of me.

The scene before me faded away, but I remained in the darkness, left alone with my thoughts of what the vision could've meant. The vibration within me, the one that had been there ever since Loki and I first met as children, was still strong. He wasn't in pain or in trouble. I'd know the moment it happened. A faint voice in the background began to surface, and I recognized it to be Harley's right away. My heart began thudding in my chest for no apparent reason. While my fear could've played a part in it, when I finally listened to my heart, I knew that it was beating in tandem with Tony's. He was panicking. Harley's soft voice cut through the silence, "well, you're a mechanic, right? You said so," Harley reminded Tony of the conversation we had when we first arrived at the house.

"Yes, I did," Tony answered, his voice sounding distant. I couldn't feel his presence as closely as Harley's, which meant that he wasn't in the room with us.

Forcing my eyes open, I took in my surroundings. I was back in the dimly lit shack on the cot Tony and I had spent our nights in together. While it felt strange to not wake up with him by my side, it was nothing compared to the emptiness I felt from the moment Loki left me up until the present day. Waking up in our bed alone left me with an indescribable emptiness, like a black hole had formed within me and swallowed every ounce of who I was. I glanced around the room, feeling weaker than ever, almost as if I was becoming human. Tony was nowhere to be found, but Harley sat at a small table beside Tony's armor that had taken quite the beating when he crashed down to the ground that night. Harley's eyes were locked on a computer screen in front of him as he spoke into the phone, "why don't you just build something?" he asked, slightly calming down Tony's erratic heartbeat.

"Okay. Thanks, kid," Tony replied from the other end of the phone, his voice resonating through the shack, "how's my girl doing?"

"She..." Harley's voice trailed off as he spun in the chair to look at me. I was guessing that Tony had called to ask him more than once how I was doing, so Harley hadn't expected much of a change. However, when we locked eyes, his blue ones brightened, "she just woke up," he reported, a smile crossing over his lips.

"Oh, thank God!" Tony breathed out from the other end of the line. It was like he was finally able to breathe, "am I on speaker?" he asked as it dawned on me the question I hadn't asked him, the question I desperately needed an answer to. I couldn't let Ezra's threats the previous night go unattended to.

As I scrambled out of the cot and hurried over the the phone, Harley nodded his head in response to Tony's question, but his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at me, "yeah."

Upon reaching the desk where he sat, the world caught up to me, and I fell to my knees. If Tony had been there, he wouldn't have let me out of the bed so quickly. He would've forced me to take it easy, much like he did after my injuries in New York. Where I had once taken care of him as a child, he became my caretaker when I fell ill or when I was wounded, "she got out of the bed too fast, didn't she?" Tony asked, almost as if he knew that I would.

"Yeah," Harley answered, crawling down onto the floor next to me, nestling his body against mine and wrapping his arms around the top of my waist, making sure they were nowhere near the wound on my abdomen.

Tony's voice sounded from the phone again, "are you okay, Eva?"

"Where is she?" I asked, instead of answering his question. I couldn't think of the dizziness that overcame me. All that I could think of was that Ezra would somehow make good on his promise to find _her_, to hurt _her_.

"Who?" he asked, clear confusion in his voice.

My heart began to pound erratically, fear spreading through me like I'd never felt before, "you know who I'm talking about, Tony. Where is she?"

"She's with Steve," Tony answered, finally realizing who I was talking about. Ever since we parted, I hadn't been able to even _think _of that name, let alone utter it, "when the issue with the Mandarin began, I sent her to stay with him for a while, knowing that she wouldn't be safe with me until this was over. I made the right choice-the hardest choice. She's safe with him. He'd protect her with his life, just as he would protect you," he explained

I shook my head, knowing that it wouldn't be enough to fend off Ezra. He was powerful. Steve was strong, and he fought with courage. I trusted him with my life at one point, and he trusted me with his. We were close, closer than most, and in any other circumstance, I would have unwavering faith that he could protect her. I wasn't as confident in his ability to defeat Ezra, though, a man with abilities that rivalled even some of the most powerful entities I had come across in my time. Steve was powerful...worthy. I couldn't be too careful when it came to her, though. If it was up to me, I'd call upon the entirety of Asgard to protect her against Ezra. It was a danger I needed to make Tony understand, "there needs to be more. You...I need you to get Natasha and Clint there. Call Bruce and...and tell him to stay close," I panicked, my heart racing.

"Clint and Nat are already close by," he explained in a calm voice, almost as if he could sense my fear, my worry, "I made sure that everyone was close when I sent her to Steve just in case anyone who wanted to get to me set their sights on her. If anything were to happen, they're all in close proximity."

"They're not close enough!" I snapped, my breath becoming shallow as I panicked. It had been a long time since I felt so human, so utterly _normal_. I'd always felt a sense of power, but when it came to _her_, I was a slave to those emotions. I felt my eyes burning with unshed tears as I thought of the threats Ezra made once more, "tell them to stay together for a while," I begged, feeling my hands beginning to tremble. Harley continued to hold on to me, which offered me some sense of stability, almost as if he was keeping me from losing all control.

"What's going on?" Tony asked from the other end of the line, becoming more and more nervous with each word. He knew that I had a connection with her, much like I did with him and the rest of the team on Midgard. When it came to her, I knew every little detail about her. My life essence was intertwined with hers for reasons that I had locked away since the moment we parted. I tried to ignore our connection, but it was impossible. I could feel every tear that fell down those fair cheeks, every laugh that emitted from those full lips, every wisp of wind that tousled her unruly hair. Tony knew that I would know if she was in danger, so he knew that I was serious. He sighed, paranoia rising up within him, "listen, I'll give them a call, but I need more than what you're giving me if I'm gonna convince them to all cram themselves into Steve's modest little apartment for the time being. I need you to tell me what's going on."

I knew that I didn't have to explain myself, that Tony wouldn't even have to explain it to them to get them to cooperate. The Avengers, the ones who promised their lives to protecting and avenging Midgard, showed their unwavering loyalty to me, just as I had shown mine to them. They were an extended part of my family, and they accepted me as one of theirs, making their feelings clear before the last time I left to return to Asgard. We would move mountains for one another, but I knew that Tony just needed to know what was going on with _her_.

I let out a deep breath, wrapping my arm around Harley, "she's alive, but she's in danger. I'm trusting them to protect her should that danger come for her. I wish I could tell you everything, but I can't. All you need to know is that she's in danger and that I need them to protect her. There are people out there, very bad people, who are willing to do whatever it takes to get me to bend to their will. I thought my secrets were well kept, but I cannot hide her from him," I explained, being vague for a reason. We didn't have the time, and I didn't have the energy to explain Ezra and his father's desire to overthrow Odin, to bring his rule to an end. All Tony needed to know was that _her_ life was in danger. I needed him to trust me the way I trusted him, "I owe you an unpayable debt already, Tony, a debt I could never repay even if I sacrificed my life for you. I'm asking you to just trust me. Trust that I wouldn't be asking this of you unless I needed this," I pleaded.

"When we're done with this conversation, I'll call them. You know how much they love you, how much they all love _her_, so they'd be willing to go to the ends of the Earth for either one of you," he remarked, reminding me of the profound relationships I had with each of them, "how are _you _holding up?"

"I'm alive. That has to count for something, right?" I asked, finally managing to stand up. Harley disconnected his arms from around my waist, but he still remained at my side, "where are you?"

"I'm out. I had some work to do," he answered, being just as vague as I had been with him. I snickered, sensing so much of his father in him. He inherited mostly the good parts of Howard, but his work ethic was astonishing, something that I wished he had inherited less of. There were too many nights where I would sit in his workshop, casting the veil over his eyes, and watch as he worked until he passed out. He was undone by his work at times, and this was no different. This was another time when Tony accepted a responsibility that wasn't his. He wanted to fix something that someone else had broken, and that's what made him a hero. He continued, "listen, Eva, I need you to get ready. I'll be by shortly to pick you up. We're going on a trip."

I shook my head, glancing down at the boy by my side, "we can't leave Harley and Kaia here alone," I responded, my heart rising up into my throat. I knew that we weren't just going to be gone for a few hours, and I wasn't willing to just leave Harley alone again.

"Hey, Harley, do me a favor and turn the phone off speaker and give it to Eva," Tony instructed, and Harley got to work doing what Tony asked of him. He handed the device to me, and I held it up to my ear. It took only a short second of silence for Tony to speak only to me, "this trip might be one-way."

I nodded, understanding what he meant, "I might not be in the best condition. Can it wait just one more day?" I asked, the weakness still taking control of me. If I was given the time to regain some of my strength, we stood a better chance at defeating the Mandarin. I didn't want to take any chances when it came to my ability to protect Tony. I wasn't afraid to meet my end, but I was deathly afraid of losing him to Death's cold embrace.

"It's time sensitive. It can't wait," he replied, trying to be as gentle as possible, "besides, the sooner we finish this, the sooner we can focus on keeping _her_ safe," he added, wanting to give me an incentive to get it done as quickly as possible, "now, you can decide not to go with me, and I'll understand. You have other people who need you, including Harley and Kaia, but..._I_ need you on this, Eva. I've never needed anyone this much before in my life," he explained, and I knew that he didn't want to ask this of me, that he wouldn't have asked me unless he was truly desperate.

I locked eyes with Harley and felt Kaia's presence within the house. I closed my eyes and saw _hers_ in my mind, as if she was standing directly in front of me. Green. The color of spring. They were filled with tears that twinkled like stars in the night sky. When I opened my eyes, I came to the realization that in order to keep them safe, I needed to help create a safer world for them, which was what Tony was trying to do. The sorrow that would come with leaving Harley and Kaia alone again would be a price I would willingly pay to ensure their safety throughout their lives. I nodded my head, "I'll be ready when you get here."

"Thank you," he replied, his voice tender because he knew what I was sacrificing by agreeing to his plans, "you still have time to spend with them while you wait for me, but...spend it wisely with them."


	18. Mother

Immediately after my conversation with Tony was over, Harley's worried eyes left me with a strong anguish because I couldn't tell him that there was nothing to fear. He could see right through me. All I could do was spend as much time with him as possible while time was still on our side. Before I could speak, he grasped my hand in his and pulled me toward the door of the shack. I followed along, walking by his side as every step he took was more and more solemn than the last, almost as if he wanted to stretch out every moment just to have more time together. I was trying to as well. We walked to the door of his house, and he looked up at me, hope in those blue eyes, "you're inviting me into your home?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. There had been a reason why I didn't trespass within the walls of that place, and it was because I needed to remain hidden from his mother.

He shook his head, "this isn't my home," he answered, causing me to furrow my eyebrows in confusion. I didn't understand why he lived there if it didn't belong to him. Tears flooded his vision as he gazed up at me, "you are," he stated simply, as if he was discussing the weather. It was the nonchalant nature of it that made it even more touching than I had anticipated. It mimicked his words from when I woke up after my vision of my father and caused me the same joy and warmth as if did that night. He cracked open the door to reveal a clean yet broken abode. There were fist-sized holes in the wall, and the place smelled of Midgardian ale..._beer_. The house was small but seemed like a prison of sorts. There was no warmth or happiness that I felt when I stepped over the threshold, which hadn't been the case with many homes. This one was filled with grief and sadness-_fear_.

The vibrations began once again, deep in my chest. It felt like a small rumble, and I could sense the connection this time. Like I had connected with Harley, it was only fitting that I had the same connection with Kaia. I didn't plan for it, but it made sense as the vibrations became even stronger. Just as Harley closed the door behind me, the hinges causing the door to creak slightly, a small girl poked her head out of one of the rooms down the hall. Little blonde curls framed her face, and doe eyes that mimicked the color of the brightest sky seemed to glimmer with joy at the sight of her brother. A crooked smile made its home on her face before her eyes found mine. Upon seeing me, her eyes widened in clear disbelief. Her smile fell, and her lips parted slightly as she took in the sight of me. I cocked my head to the side, "hello, Kaia. I've heard a lot about you," I spoke as gently as possible, not wanting to startle her.

Her eyes brightened once more, the brightest star not even holding a candle to their brilliance. The smile returned to her face, only it was bigger that time. Her mouth hung open slightly as if she wished to speak but couldn't find the words, "Mommy!" she squealed, the name catching me off guard. She pranced out of the room and hurried over to me, throwing her little body into my own. Her arms wrapped tightly around the top of my legs as she buried her face into my waist in an unexpected embrace. I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to piece together the reasoning behind her name for me. Before I had the chance to decipher it, she continued speaking, pulling away just enough to look up at me, "you're the lady I see in my dreams! I knew you would come save us!"

I glanced down at Harley as she buried her face back into my waist, looking for some sort of explanation, "she saw you on the TV during the New York incident, and she took to the nickname quicker than anyone else. She used to tell me that you'd come and save us, but I never believed her until you showed up that night," he explained, lowering his eyes to his sister who continued to cling to me. Warmth spread through me and a smile made its home on my lips. I pulled her away delicately to allow me the space to kneel down to her level. As our eyes connected, like the beautiful meeting between the land and the sky, Harley spoke, "Kaia, this is Eva. She's here to help a friend," he explained.

Kaia leaned toward me and reached up, resting the palm of one of her tiny hands against my face with such tenderness that I thought I would melt. She tilted her head, a look of wonder clear in her eyes. It was the same look that _she_ had when she looked at me for the first time, a look that never went away. Kaia's eyes were filled with an understanding, almost like we'd known each other since the beginning of time. Our souls knew one another; we were born of the same star. She nodded her head, little golden curls bouncing around her shoulders, "I know who you are," she murmured before wrapping her arms around my neck.

I rested my chin in the crook of her neck, trying to repress the wild emotions that were threatening to surface. This was something I was familiar with. This wasn't a new feeling. I had felt it, and it had been lost to the universe. I was terrified of feeling it again, of losing it again. Still, no matter how afraid I was, I couldn't deny my profound connection to those two children. I let out a shaky breath, and in doing so, the tension within me released. I let myself feel that complete, pure, unhindered love of a child. Suddenly, the love Harley had shown me began to sink in. Harley and Kaia both looked at me the same way the children of the orphanage looked at me in New York. They looked at me with hope, but this time, I wouldn't fail. I _couldn't_. I smiled through the tears, nodding my head in recognition of her words, "I think I know you, too, Kaia," I whispered, knowing that if I tried to speak normally, my voice would crack, creating a fracture in the dam that held back my ever-growing emotions.

With her arms still locked around my neck, I stood up, pulling her fragile and light little body up with mine. Even if I had been human, she still would've been light as a feather. I maneuvered her so that she was attached to my side, my arm keeping her secure to me. She molded into my side like she was meant to be there, like we were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly. It was the same feeling I had when Loki held me, or when I held Harley. It was the same feeling I had whenever my father held me, or whenever I held _her_. I had experienced the same puzzle-piece phenomenon with each of the most important people in my life, but I'd also experienced it with Ezra. I shook the thought from my head as the house began to grow warmer, and there was a feeling of peace and joy-a feeling of home.

I glanced down at Harley to see that his eyes were locked onto me, watching my every move with his sister. It wasn't in an untrusting kind of way, but he was just observing my gentle nature with Kaia, almost as if he'd not witnessed anyone treat her like a little princess. Harley's eyes disconnected from mine as he covered his mouth to yawn, his body becoming weak with exhaustion. I reached down and ran my free hand through his hair, "I think it might be time for bed," I murmured, tucking some of the more unruly strands of hair behind his ear.

He nodded his head, "I have to tuck Kaia in first, though," he explained, letting me step into his world for a moment, "I'm gonna go get her bed ready really quick," he added, heading toward the hallway that Kaia had run down only a few moments prior.

Before he could make it too far away from me, I reached out and grabbed his hand with the free one I had used to stroke his hair out of his face, hence stopping him in his tracks. He turned back around to face me, and I moved my hand to rest on his shoulder, "we've both been through a lot tonight, more than you should ever have to go through in your life. Go get yourself cleaned up, and then I'll tuck you both in for the night," I instructed, watching as he processed my words. behind those sad eyes. They flickered away from me, and I could see-clear as day-that he wasn't used to being taken cared for. I reached up and cupped his cheek, turning his attention back to me, "Harley, let me take care of you two tonight," I urged, wanting to reassure him that he could trust me. He seemed so different within the walls of the house than he was anywhere else. This place seemed to bring him pain, unwanted memories, and a guarded attitude.

After a long moment of searching my eyes to find any traces of dishonesty of malintent, he agreed to the terms, finding only my genuine care for them. He gave a slight nod and turned on his heel to retire to the washroom and get cleaned up. In his absence, I glanced around the rather vacant looking house. It seemed both too lived in and not lived in at all. There were no pictures of the children to be found, but there were a plethora of beer bottles that the house seemed smaller because of the clutter. Aside from the random holes in the walls, they were completely bare. Newspapers covered almost all the windows, but there was one that had a piece of plastic covering a hole in it.

The house was unlike any I'd ever been in on Midgard, and it was certainly not one I could envision small children residing in. I found my way over to a couch that was covered in holes and stains, and even though I didn't want to sit down, I wanted to talk with Kaia, a feat I couldn't accomplish with her attached to my hip. I maneuvered her body so that I held her against my chest, her body applying pressure against the wound on my abdomen. I fought through the pain, knowing that my only other option was to drop her, and I refused to do that. When I lowered myself onto the couch, she slid her body back to be situated right in front of my knees. Her blue eyes met mine once more, and that smile tugged at her lips, "was it scary in New York?" she asked, innocently.

I was taken aback by her question for a moment, surprised that she would be asking something like that. It wasn't the topic of conversations I had with anyone, but I also hadn't been to Midgard since I forfeited my happiness and my life. I nodded my head in response to her question, "it was really scary," I answered.

Her eyes grew with surprise, "how did you do it if you were scared?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Are you scared of anything?" I asked, wanting to explain it in a way that she would understand. She nodded her head, "what are you afraid of?" I continued, knowing that I could simplify my willingness to face my fears if I could make it somehow relatable to her. She was silent for a long moment. Her hands came to rest in her lap, and I watched as she wrung them together, her eyes disconnecting from mine and focusing on each movement her hands made. A sadness-a fear-creeped up within her, and I could feel it as if it were my own. She looked as if she were debating on whether or not to answer me. I shook my head, "it's okay, little bird. If you don't want to talk about-"

She cut me off, her little voice like a knife in my heart, "mommy...I'm afraid of mommy," she answered, tears brimming her eyes.

I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to process the meaning of her words. I watched time and time again how close a child was to their mother, and to hear Kaia tell me that she wasn't only not close to her mother but _afraid_ of the woman who gave her life...it upset me. I knew that something serious must've been at play for her to have so much pain in her innocent blue eyes, eyes that had clearly seen far more of the world than what was fair. I raised my hand beneath her chin and tilted her head up so that she was looking at me. Each move I made was purposeful, careful, and gentle. Our eyes met once more, and I stumbled over my question to her, "what...what does she do?" I asked, knowing that I had to tread lightly. Tony had mentioned something about Harley's mannerisms, how they reminded him of how he acted with his father as a child, and I could sense that he was unhappy. However, I didn't want to believe that they were mistreated, that any parent could harbor such resentment for their own children.

Her bottom lip quivered, and my heart shattered in that very moment. Tears brimmed her doe eyes, causing the sorrow to grow within me. She drew a shaky breath, "mommy hurts us," she answered, uttering the most upsetting words I could've imagined. As soon as she answered my question, it all began to make sense, but it was something that I wished I never had to make sense of in the first place.

Before I dared to process my anger and sorrow on the matter, I knew that I needed to focus all of my energy on her. I rested my open palm against her cheek, and she leaned into my touch, just as I had done with her, "oh, my sweet little bird, I didn't mean to upset you," I apologized as the first tear streamed down her cheek. She crawled up to my lap and nestled her body against mine once more, melting into my arms as she trembled with unchecked emotion. It was clear that it had been a while since she allowed herself to cry, and I would offer her my embrace. I'd shoulder the weight of the world for her from that day on.

To think that someone could bring themselves to hurt their children, to bring pain and suffering upon their babies...it made my heart ache for humanity. I knew how beautiful humanity could be, but I wasn't blind to the vile, disturbing, dregs of society. I swore an oath to protect all of humanity, but when people committed those unforgivable crimes, they forfeited their humanity and became my enemy. Holding Kaia in my arms made me understand why they took to me so quickly, why Harley put every ounce of faith and trust in me from the night we met. I was safe. They knew I was someone who wasn't going to hurt them, and they latched onto me and wouldn't let go.

I held Kaia for what seemed like only a second but what had truly been enough time for Harley to finish his shower and wander into the bedroom to find pajamas. I held her the way she deserved to be held, like she was a porcelain doll, like she was being protected and loved. She would grow up to be strong and resilient, but every child needed to feel safe, protected, loved, and cherished. It was something she had gone without for too long, and I tried to give it all to her in that one long embrace. Kaia sniffled and began speaking, "are you going to stay forever?" she asked, "in my dream, you said that you'd save Harley and me, and you said we'd be together forever," she added, explaining the reasoning behind her question.

My heart thudded in my chest as I thought of my upcoming adventure with Tony, knowing that it could very well be the final time I saw either of them. My body was becoming weaker and weaker by the minute, so my hope was dwindling. However, I couldn't bring myself to tell Kaia that the chances of me returning to them were slim. Instead, I answered her question with a question of my own, knowing that I needed her to understand what I was about to do, "do you know what I was doing in New York?" I asked, rubbing her back.

She nodded her head, her eyes connecting with mine, "you were fighting the bad guys."

"That's right!" I exclaimed, a smile spreading across my face. It was a step closer to what I needed her to understand, "those weren't the only bad guys around, though. There are other bad guys, and I need to make sure they don't hurt the good people-the _innocent _people. In order to do that, I have to go away for a little while, but when it's over, I'm going to come back here and make sure you and Harley are safe, okay?"

She nodded her head once more, offering me a lopsided grin, which caused my heart to fill with warmth. She understood what I meant to an extent, but she couldn't possibly understand the serious nature of what I was going away to do; if I were honest with myself, I didn't want her to understand it. The heart and mind of a child should be filled with hope and wonder, and if I made it back to them, I would restore that in both her and Harley. She gazed up at me, "can you take us with you?" she asked, innocently. When I tuned in to hear her heart, I discovered that her question was born in fear that I wouldn't return like I said. While she placed faith and trust in me after only a short time of knowing me, she was still cautious. They had been hurt before, and she wanted to minimize the risk.

Before I had to break Kaia's heart by telling her that I couldn't bring them with me, Harley retreated from the bedroom with his pajamas on, pulling Kaia's attention away from our conversation. Harley was dressed in an oversized grey t-shirt and plaid pajama pants that had small holes in them. He didn't look fazed by it, but I was. His hair was still wet, matted down against his head. Small droplets cascaded from the strands of hair and fell onto his shoulders in a rhythm; two on his left shoulder, one on his right, one on his left shoulder, two on his right. It was a continuous pattern that I had to focus on so that I didn't burst into tears at their mistreatment. The same lopsided grin he'd given to me time and time again tugged at his lips, and he brushed his hair to the side, successfully breaking the pattern and my concentration on it. I turned my attention to Kaia, patting her gently on the back, "how about you go get some pajamas on and grab a hair brush and some ties?" I suggested, casting a smile down at her.

She nodded her head, a small yawn slipping from her lips. She climbed off of my lap and made her way into the bedroom Harley had just retreated from. I rose from the couch and closed the space between us, maintaining steady eye contact, "if you want, I can help you dry and brush your hair," I remarked, and he gave a slight nod before retreating to the washroom once more, returning after only a moment with a towel and brush in his hand. He handed them over to me, and I proceeded to dry his hair with the towel, allowing it to soak up as much moisture as possible. Once it was as dry as it was going to get with no more droplets of water creating a steady rhythm, I combed through his damp locks.

The silence between us was only broken when a knock sounded at the door, causing Harley to jump in anxiousness. I rested a hand on his shoulder, calming his nerves, "it's just Tony," I explained, feeling those familiar vibrations whenever he was close. It was a release of some sort when he was close, when any of my people were close. I glanced over at the door, "come in," I beckoned right before the door propped open just enough for Tony to enter the house that I was trying to make a home before I left. He glanced down at my hands to take in what I was doing, which gave life to a beautiful, heart-warming smile in the midst of the chaos. I pulled the brush through Harley's hair for the last time before patting him on the shoulder to gain his attention. When he turned around, I ran a hand through his-now tame-hair, "head into the room and get into bed. I'll be in there in a minute," I urged, my voice soft to keep the atmosphere calm.

He nodded his head, flashing me a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes before he retreated into the bedroom that Kaia had disappeared to. A wall of emotion hit me as it began to sink in that the coming moments could be the very last ones I'd have with them. It was like the pain I felt on the day of my greatest failure. Loving _her_ was my greatest weakness...leaving _her _was my greatest failure. The words were familiar, too familiar, ones that had once been uttered about me. My hand flew up to my mouth as I stared down the hallway to the room where I'd be forced to say goodbye to the two children who needed me, two children who deserved the world, two little souls that formed together with mine. The tips of my fingers were pressed against my lips to hold back the sobs that were determined to escape.

Tears clouded my vision, but I held them back until they overflowed and cascaded down my cheeks. I thanked every supreme being for granting me the strength to hold back my sorrow until Harley and Kaia were out of the room. As soon as the first tremble occurred, threatening to tear me apart, Tony's strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me into his warm, comforting embrace. He knew what this was doing to me, what leaving people did to me. He saw it happen once before, so he knew what was coming. He held me the same way he did that day, the day of my greatest failure, "tell me what you need from me, Eva. Don't try to shoulder this all on your own," he whispered into my hair as he held me.

I threw my arms around him, desperately needing someone to hold onto, someone to act as my rock when my life was crashing down around me. Tony had been there the first time, and he was present this time, ready to support me again, "I need more time," I murmured, my voice cracking against the tears as he held me. I just needed to know, without the shadow of a doubt, that Harley and Kaia would be safe, and I couldn't know that for certain until I came back to them..._if_ I came back to them. Every scenario ran through my mind, and there were only a handful of fulfilling ones amongst the thousands of negative ones.

Tony's hand stroked through my hair, and he pulled away from the embrace. Before I could reach up to wipe my tears away, Tony's fingertips guided them from my cheeks just as I had done to him as a child. He offered me a supportive, hopeful smile, "you have nothing to worry about, Eva, okay? You're going to make it back from this. I've seen what Asgardians are capable of, and I've seen what _you_ are capable of," he remarked, grasping my shoulder, "if you think-even for a moment-that you could be bested, I'd tell you that you clearly haven't been paying attention. I saw what you did with the water, and Harley told me about what you did to protect him. I didn't know-"

I cut him off, "I didn't know, either" I whispered, remembering the events of the previous night, the power I felt. Still, I couldn't rely on it because I didn't even know how to summon that power, how to control it to work for me. I didn't even know if I could do it again, or if it was a freak accident, "all I know is that they need someone, and I want to be that someone for them. You remember what I told _her_ when I brought her to you, don't you?"

He nodded his head, remembering the day he saw my life fall apart. It was like New York didn't tear me apart enough. He nodded his head, "you said that...loving her was your greatest weakness, and leaving her was your greatest failure," he recalled, his voice remaining calm as not to rouse those familiar feelings within me. He knew how scarcely I spoke of her, and he saw how falsely _disinterested _I was in hearing anything about her when I arrived, so he moved through his words carefully.

I nodded my head, a chill running through me at the sound of those words once more, "I can't fail anyone else, Tony," I explained, "not the way I failed _her_."

"You _never _failed her, and you won't fail me or these kids," he reassured me, reaching up to cup my cheek, his palm resting against my face. His hand was warm, loving...familiar, "I trust you with my _life_, Eva. I trust you more than I've ever trusted another person, and I trust you even when I feel I can't trust _anyone_. You know what to do, but I just don't think you want to admit it. I know you well enough by now to know that you'll do what's best, that you're going to protect these children no matter what the cost," he explained, closing every bit of space that sat between the two of us. His eyes locked with mine, "you _know_ what to do, but you need to trust yourself. Trust yourself the way I trust you."

Deep down, I knew what I wanted to do, what would be best for them, but I couldn't trust myself to make that decision anymore. I couldn't trust myself with the lives of others after I saw what happened the last time. I didn't want to make the decisions anymore. Perhaps, the best thing for them would be a life without me, just like it was best for _her_. If I had spoken those words to Tony, he would've shut them down before they even made it out of my mouth, but I couldn't help but think that my presence would only leave them damaged, broken, disappointed.

Understanding that I had only a handful of options, I pulled away from Tony, wanting to spend every second I had with Harley and Kaia before I had to leave. I walked down the hallway, stepping quietly into the bedroom to see Harley sitting on Kaia's bedside, tears clear in his blue eyes. When I entered the room, their eyes flickered over to me, and I offered them a gentle smile. As I entered their room, Harley stood from Kaia's bed and got into his own that was parallel to hers, and I took the spot he had once been sitting in. I reached up, brushing her hair back with my hand to get the wild strands out of her face, and I began to remember the countless times Frigga had done so with me when I was a child. She would often sit at my bedside and stroke my hair back until I fell asleep, and I was planning on doing the same for Kaia, "when are you coming back?" she asked with sorrow in her eyes.

I could practically hear the subtle cracks forming in her heart, the heart I so desperately wanted to protect, "soon," I answered simply, not wanting to dump my fears onto her. I couldn't tell her that I wasn't sure if I would return at all because it wasn't her responsibility to shoulder that fear. She was still so innocent even after all she had been through, and I would foster that innocence until I was dragged to Death herself and forced to forfeit my life.

Kaia shook her head, almost as if she was refusing to hear my response, almost as if she didn't want me to be away from her for even a second, "I don't want to be scared anymore," she trembled.

The palm of my hand cupped her cheek, and I knew what my job was in that very moment. If I had to leave her with the possibility of never returning, I needed to teach her one of the most valuable lessons I'd ever learned, the lesson that made me overcome even some of the most difficult challenges of my life. I adjusted myself on the bed. My right leg was tucked underneath me while my left one hung off the side of the bed. I grasped one of her little hands in my own and held it with a firm, optimistic grasp. My eyes locked with hers, "do you know what fear gives life to?" I asked, and she shook her head, "bravery," I answered my own question to her.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and I remembered a time when my father spoke the same words to me, a time when I spoke those words to someone else…

_Her_.

As I recalled my father's words, I repeated them to Kaia, "the wisest man I've ever known, my father, told me that fear works in tandem with bravery. You cannot be brave if you are not first afraid. The bravest people you know became brave because they faced their fears and came out above them," I explained before digging into my personal experience from her question when we were alone, "earlier, you asked me if I was afraid in New York, and I told you that I was. I was horrified, but I knew that if I didn't act, people could be hurt. I decided that the safety of others was far more important than my fear of who I was fighting and what they were capable of. _You_ can be brave, too, Kaia."

"Like you?" she asked, cocking her head to the side and searching my eyes.

I shook my head, "_even braver_," I replied, stroking the back of her hand with my thumb. I had faith in her, more faith than I ever had in myself. Upon hearing my response, she let out a barely audible gasp, one of excitement and a lingering sense of responsibility. It was something she thought to be unbelievable and unattainable. I chuckled, "but for the time being, I need you to be brave without me, okay?"

Kaia nodded her head once more, her little hand squeezing my forefinger, and I finally realized that I was wrapped around hers. The love and devotion I felt for them was nothing short of maternal, and though they were not the children I envisioned having, they were precious to me regardless of their origin. Perhaps it was similar to the way Aaldir felt about Hjalmar and I. I never truly understood how he could love me the way he claimed, since I was not his blood, but I started to realize how love could manifest itself in different ways when Tony was born. I fully understood that love upon meeting Harley and Kaia, though. I believed some of the maternal love I had for Tony came from my devotion and dedication to his father, but when I realized my love for Harley and Kaia-two children I had no connection to prior to our meeting-I understood my love for Tony in a much more explicit way. Kaia's eyelids fluttered, "can you sing to me?" she asked, mirroring the question Loki always asked of me before falling asleep.

"Of course," I answered, wanting her last memory of me to be beautiful, almost ethereal, so that it I met my end against the Mandarin, she would remember me like a dream. Perhaps, my loss wouldn't impact her much if I left her that way. The song I chose was clear in my mind. Whilst Loki and I travelled the world throughout the years, we found so much joy in the European countries. One particular visit, we were exploring the British Isles and came across a pub. Loki and I made fast friends with the patrons of the bar, and when our night was coming to a close, they drunkenly sang us a beautiful song of farewell. I often sang it to Loki before leaving for battle, one I sang to Tony when he was just a boy before I returned to Asgard. It was a song I sang to _her_, a song I thought I'd never sing again until that very moment.

As I stroked her hair back, I began singing, "_of all the money that e'er I had, I spent it in good company. And all the harm that I've ever done, alas it was too none but me. And all I've done for want of wit, to memory now I can't recall, so fill to me the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be to you all_," I sang, seeing that her eyelids were growing heavier and heavier, "close your eyes, little bird," I instructed, watching as those little eyes fluttered closed. I continued to stroke her hair, listening to her breathing slow, and I continued the song through my tears, "_of all the comrades that e'er I had, they're sorry for my going. And all the sweethearts that e'er I had, they'd wish me one more day to stay. But since it fell unto my lot, that I should rise, and you should not, I gently rise and softly call, goodnight and joy be to you all_..._goodnight and joy be with you all_," I finished, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, sensing that she was finally asleep. I wiped away the stray tears from my cheeks and suppressed the memories the song brought to the surface once more.

I turned my attention over to Harley to see that he was still awake, and his cheeks were wet with the evidence of his sorrow. I rose from Kaia's bed and situated myself on the edge of Harley's bed. I reached down and brushed the tears from his cheeks. Before I could tell him that everything would be okay, that everything would work itself out, he proposed a question that tore my heart apart, "will you forget about me?" he asked, fear clear in his eyes and voice.

My jaw hung slack for a moment as confusion overcame me. I wasn't sure what I had done to even give him the slightest suspicion that I would forget about him. I shook my head, "oh, of course not! Why would you think that?" I asked, stroking his cheek with the tips of my fingers.

He choked back tears, searching my eyes to find any ounce of dishonesty or deception within my response. The uncertain look in his eyes was familiar, and I knew the feeling myself. I used to think that Aaldir would leave me someday, that if my birth parents could bring themselves to abandon me, why wouldn't he do the same? What would stop him? If my own parents couldn't love me, who could? It was a toxic state of mind to live in, but I lived it, and I knew that Harley was living in it in that moment. His bottom lip quivered, "my dad...my mom..." he stammered, his voice betraying him as it gave way to the heavy flow of tears that began to stream down his face.

The pain in my abdomen was no match for the pain in my heart at that very moment. I leaned down, grasping his cheeks to keep him steady and grounded. I pressed my forehead against his, using the small ounces of power I had left to calm his nerves, to bring him to a place of peace. While his tears didn't cease, they slowed, and his breathing began to steady. I sat back up and stroked his hair back like I had done with Kaia. His teary, bloodshot eyes connected with mine, "I'm not them! You are a spectacular, phenomenal, wonderful little human, Harley. You have a kind and gentle soul, a soul that lives in harmony with my own, a soul that offers more beauty than I can comprehend. Even if I were to die right here and right now, I still couldn't forget you because you hold such a profound place in my heart, little one," I confessed, offering him a smile to help lighten the mood.

I continued to stroke his hair back, feeling his ever-calming nerves. He was growing more and more tired with each passing second, but I could sense that he was fighting it with all he had. He knew that I wasn't going to leave with him still awake, and he didn't want me to leave at all. I cleared my throat, "when I was a child, my father told me that each one of us is created with the essence of starlight; it's the fabric of our life essence, our _soul_. Each time a star died, it would send a burst of energy across the universe, spanning across every galaxy, every solar system, every planet. From that stardust was born the life essence of a number of people, thus those souls were tied together by a thread with the power of a dying star, a thread that could never be broken through time or distance. Throughout history, they would be destined to find their way to each other, the thread pulling them closer and closer together. Then, when they finally met, the thread would secure itself around each of them, binding their souls together for the rest of time. I've met others who were born with the same life essence that resides within me," I explained, telling him the story my father had once told me.

His eyebrows furrowed, "who are they?"

I glanced over at the doorway to see that Tony stood there in complete silence, listening intently to my words. I felt his presence there as I sang the song to Kaia, but I hadn't acknowledged him until that moment, "Tony's one of them," I confessed, locking eyes with the man who held such a significant portion of my heart. I turned my attention back to Harley, "Tony's parents, Howard and Maria, were among them as well. The heroes of New York: Bruce, Natasha, Thor, Clint, and Steve are others. They helped me see the beauty in humanity once more, how people of such different walks of life could unite together against a common enemy," I explained, having so many fond memories from a time when my life was falling apart. It was a strange phenomenon, but I did have beautiful memories of New York, of reconnecting with Steve, bonding with Bruce over technology, bonding with Natasha and being able to take a look into her mind when she finally trusted me enough to allow me such a privilege, getting to know Clint to the point that he exposed his biggest secret to me, and fighting alongside Thor for the man we both loved in different ways.

"My love, Loki, is another one. We had plans to get married and run away together. We dreamed of either being accepted by his father and living a peaceful life in Asgard, or we would run away to Midgard and start a whole new life together amongst the Midgardians we loved so dearly. There was a man I danced with only once before he went off to war, Bucky, and I protected him from the sidelines throughout the war until the day he died," I noted, my eyes flickering down to my lap as I remembered the way he smiled at me, the peace he emanated even in his final moments. It still touched me all these years later. His presence was still alive within me even after his death. I shook off the thoughts of him, knowing that I had to push forward for Harley's sake, "then, there's the man who raised me, the man I consider to be my father, Aaldir, and the man who I knew as my brother, Hjalmar. My closest friend, Ephinea is of that group as well."

"There are also ones I have met throughout history, people you may know of already, or they may be people I tell you about when I return. I've been coming to Midgard for a very, very long time, and almost all of those times were in the company of Loki. For nearly a thousand years, we travelled the world together time and time again, and we've met countless people along the way," I confessed, and his eyes widened when he realized just how long I'd been alive. It brightened my mood slightly, causing a bit of the weight to be removed from my shoulders, "there were three royals, Mary, Anne, and Diana, who changed the course of history, who changed _me_. There were authors: William, Jane, and Charlotte, who embodied the beauty of the arts. There was an artist, Leonardo, a man who taught me about the importance of love. There were peacekeepers, people who sought to bring about change for the better, people who changed the world for the better," I added, watching as his eyes filled with wonder as I named off the people who meant so much to me, who held a strong place in my heart even after they had died.

"There's a girl..." I continued, my voice trailing off as fleeting thoughts arose once more. There wasn't a single day that passed when I didn't think of _her_, and there never would be for the rest of my life. I could never forget those haunting eyes, the way they filled with tears during our final moments together, the way those tears twinkled as they fell from her eyes, like stars falling from the night sky, the way she screamed for me to stay, the way she yelled after me as I left, and the way I made her forget me. I remembered every horrific moment just as clearly as I remembered every beautiful one.

"Eva," Tony's voice sounded from the doorway, pulling me from my thoughts of her. When my eyes met his, it was clear that he knew what was happening within me. He wanted me to get my feet wet, to remember her, but he didn't want me to drown. He gave a curt nod of his head, urging me to proceed.

I turned my gaze back to Harley, "then, there were two others that I found recently, two small people I care deeply about. One of them I met only an hour ago," I murmured, casting my eyes over at the sleeping princess in the bed parallel to Harley's. I studied her little features once more before my eyes flickered back to the little boy who looked at me like I was the whole world, "and the other invited me into his home, offered me a place to stay, and treated me like the center of the whole universe. He shed tears whenever he thought I could possibly bring myself to leave him. He hurt when he thought I could possibly be unsatisfied with what he had to offer. He refused to leave me when I was in danger, when the lives of others were at stake. He sits in front of me right now, worried about my fate," I whispered, my voice light and calm as I continued to hold his hand, reaching up to wipe the tears that spilled down his cheeks.

My bottom lip quivered ever so gently as I thought of our time together potentially coming to an end, "he called me one of his heroes, but what he doesn't know is that he's one of mine. This is a boy with a heart of pure gold, a boy whose soul was forged from the same star as mine. He's a boy whose presence makes the colors a little brighter and the sun a little warmer, a boy I would move mountains for, a boy I would give my life for in a heartbeat, a boy who has taken his place amongst a few others as the center of my universe. _You_," I stressed, leaning down to rest my forehead against his once more. I conveyed every ounce of love and admiration I had for him in that single act, remembering the times my father and Frigga had done so to me. Frigga always told me that I would have an easier time conveying those things to others, that I was so connected to the essence of life that I would be able to tap into it. I hoped I was able to do it in that moment, to make him see just how true my words were.

When I pulled away from him, he took the time to speak, his voice trembling in an attempt to hold back his emotions, "Kaia used to be the only family I had here," he confessed, forcing a sad smile.

"What about your mother?" I asked, cocking my head to the side in confusion. I didn't understand how he could say that Kaia was his only family when he had a parent who was still in his life.

"I didn't meet her until a few days ago when she showed up in the shack outside, needing a place to stay," he answered, his response leaving me in sheer disbelief. I didn't know what to say or how to piece together what he was saying. I never expected him to admit what I already knew deep down in my heart. I knew that he saw me as a mother figure, but I never imagined that he saw me as his mother, as the woman who would provide for, nurture, and protect him. Before I could explain that he already had a mother, that there was already a woman in his life who had given him that life, he continued to speak, knowing what I was about to say, "I don't trust her the way I trust you, I don't need her the way I need you, and I don't love her the way I love you. You're more than just the mother to the world, you're the only mother _I've_ ever had. This is the first time anyone has ever taken care of _me_ and not the other way around."

"Never think that your feelings are one-sided, Harley, because I love you just as a mother would love her son. You've changed my heart for the better and helped me see and understand so much more than I did before I met you," I stated, leaning down to press a firm kiss against his forehead. I lingered there as a tear cascaded down my cheek, not wanting him to see me cry. Upon pulling away, I locked eyes with him and grasped his hands in my own, my eyes as solemn as my voice, "I'm going to do everything in my power to return to you and Kaia, and when I do, _no one_ is ever going to hurt either of you again. I give you my word," I promised, knowing that if anyone were to attempt to harm them again, they would be met with a wrath they could never be prepared for.

His voice trembled, "if...if you don't make it-"

I cut him off, not wanting him to trail off into the dark recesses of his mind, the dark corners where sad, lonely, hurtful thoughts resided in, "if I don't make it, you're going to be just fine. You're going to carry on and live to fight another day," I insisted, knowing that he was stronger than he gave himself credit for. He would mourn for me, but he would learn to live with that grief just as we all did. My voice lowered to a whisper once more, "it's scary to think about, but I'm a warrior. _This_-fighting and sacrificing for the greater good-is what I do. You're a warrior, too, little one, and you're strong enough to make it through whatever comes next. I believe in you, and nothing will ever change that," I promised, cupping his cheek, my palm resting lightly against his face.

"I love you," he whispered, leaning into my touch.

I smiled through the tears that welled up at the sheer joy and love I felt from him in that moment. It was similar to the first time Loki told me those three words, or when Tony first said them as a child, or when _she_ said them. It reminded me of all the love I'd ever had, and it also reminded me of all the love I had lost throughout the years. Still, while it was bittersweet to think about, I was happy to have that love once more, even if it was fleeting, "I love _you_," I replied, never wanting him to forget that simple truth. Even in his moments of doubt, should I not return, I wanted him to still feel my presence through the love I had for him.

"Can I cut in?" Tony asked, his words mimicking those of his father so many years prior. His voice cut through the silence that had fallen between Harley and I. When I glanced over at Tony, his eyes held all that I needed to see. He started to care for Harley the same way I did. Tony had a paternal side to him, a side he couldn't hide from me no matter how hard he tried. He would've been good at it, too-being a father. This was his time to say goodbye to Harley, and I'd give him the time he needed, just as he did to me. I gave a curt nod of my head before standing up from the side of the bed. I walked past Tony and watched as he settled onto the bed where I had once been. It was obvious that he wasn't well-versed in maneuvering these situations with a child, but he seemed comfortable. He had some practice.

Wanting to give them both their privacy, I retreated to the shack once more to collect my things. I stripped away my Midgardian wardrobe and tied my hair back before strapping on my armor once more. The white and gold armor-with little hints of blue-clung to my body, and it felt like home. My armor reminded me that it was my duty to fight no matter what the cost. This time, I would fight for Tony, and I would fight to create a safer world for the ones I loved to live in. Holding out my right hand, Soulkeeper came to me, cutting through the air before the hilt attached itself perfectly to the palm of my hand. It came whenever I called, much like Mjolnir did for Thor. I sheathed Soulkeeper before picking up my shield that rested against the wall at the foot of the bed. I attached the shield to my back, feeling that familiar tightening in my chest that I usually felt before battle. It was a mixture of fear, anticipation, and sorrow. This time, those were heightened.

I felt an undeniable urge to return to Asgard, to find a way to get to Loki and tell him the truth, that I still loved him. It didn't feel right to go into battle without seeing him beforehand, and this time would be especially risky with my current condition. I would fight alongside Tony, but I needed closure before I could do that. The only way I would get that closure would be to return to Asgard briefly. I needed to see him as more than just an illusion, as more than just a figment of his imagination. I needed to be close to him, to see him as I told him the words I needed to be heard one last time. I needed the familiar comfort that came with his presence, even when his presence had, at times, been the most chaotic part of my life.

Upon realizing what I needed to do, I headed back into the house to explain it to Tony, to pull him aside and tell him that I needed to leave just for a short while but would return in time to face the Mandarin with him. When I reached the bedroom once more, Tony's soft, emotion-filled voice kept me from interrupting his conversation with Harley. I couldn't even make my presence known. His voice stopped me in my tracks before I made it to the bedroom door, so I leaned against the wall, taking in that comforting, familiar voice, "I had a dad who I didn't think cared for me at all growing up. He was...he was hard on me, and I didn't always like him. Sometimes, all you need is one person to believe in you, one person to love and care for you. You and I have the same person in our corner, and that's Eva," he confessed, laying his true emotions out for Harley to see. His words struck a chord with me as he continued, "trust me when I tell you that no matter where you go in your life, she's going to be looking out for you for the rest of it, like an angel on your shoulder. You'll have me, too. I'll be checking in from time to time, and even though you may not always be able to see it, I've got your back, kid."

"Why?" Harley asked, genuinely curious as to why Tony Stark, a man who shouldered the weight of the world, would care about him. It wasn't obvious to him that he and Tony were so very similar. From an outside perspective, it was clear. When Tony was Harley's age, he was going through similar trials. He was supremely intelligent, like Harley. He was mistreated, like Harley. He was lonely, like Harley. They were so similar, and Tony could see that.

"Everyone needs someone, no matter how strong they are," Tony answered, using the same words I'd once told him as a child when he asked me the same question. He finally understood it. He finally understood how endless my love and devotion to him was. As an adult, he could finally understand my love for him when he was a child. He wouldn't question it anymore because he understood how quickly he had me wrapped around his finger, much like Harley did to him. Tony's voice lowered, "she's good at it, isn't she?" he asked, out of the blue. There was silence. Upon realizing that he gave Harley no context, he elaborated on his initial question, "being a mom, I mean. She's got a gift."

Tony's words caused my lips to part as disbelief washed over me. It was a moment that shook me to my core, a question I neither expected nor prepared myself for. A small sniffle from Harley was what pulled me back to the present. It was the one thing that kept me from falling down into my whirlpool of emotions upon Tony's question, "she's the only one I've ever had," Harley confessed once more.

"I can tell," Tony replied, his voice soft as to not strike another emotion with Harley. His aim wasn't to make him cry, and I knew that. Tony hated seeing people cry, which was one of the more beautiful things about him. While he was clunky and awkward when trying to comfort most people, especially those he wasn't as close to, he still did his best to stop them from crying. He was one of the most empathetic people I knew-one of the _bravest_. He continued, "the worst part is that you can't help but love her, but the best part is that you have someone who will love you unconditionally for the rest of your life. She's one of the reasons why I'm still alive today, why I've made it this far, and she's one of the reasons why you're gonna make it through all of this."

"Every single hurdle you ever go through in your life, you'll overcome them all because you'll remember that there's someone out there who believes in you even when you can't believe in yourself. She's gonna be around to protect you, kid, and she's gonna teach you how to protect yourself...just like she did with me when I was a boy. You're lucky enough to be one of her people, just like I am, just like your sister is. When Eva chooses to get close to someone, she's there for good. She'll be there through the thick and thin, the highs and lows, life...and death," he said, recalling the countless times I visited his parents grave to maintain it or leave small offerings to them. It was my way of continuing to show my loyalty to two people who I loved so dearly, "you know what I like to do when I feel far from her?"

Harley sniffled once more, and I could sense that he was calming down, "what?"

"I look up at the sky and imagine that she put all the stars in the sky just to watch over me. I imagine that she put the moon in place to shine on some of my darkest nights. I feel close to her when I do that," he answered, and I was brought back to when he was just a little boy.

I was brought back to the countless times I had to leave him to return to Asgard and tend to my duties. He would often shed tears at my departure and ask me why I couldn't stay with him. He would tell me over and over again that he always missed me when I left him, and I'd always tell him that I put the stars in the sky to look out for him. I told him that I used the stars to watch over him through the night. That way, whenever he looked up at the stars, he would feel close to me. I couldn't easily explain to him that I had an all-seeing companion who stood at the end of a rainbow bridge and kept an eye on him to warn me if any trouble came his way. I couldn't explain that to a child, so I used a story about the stars to satiate his loneliness.

Then, it finally dawned on me that I needed to do for Harley and Kaia what I failed to do for Tony so long ago. While Howard and Maria were two of my greatest friends in the world, what Howard put Tony through was upsetting, disappointing, and appalling. If I was stronger, I would've protected Tony in a more proactive way. Instead of confronting Howard about it every chance I had but still leaving Tony in the lion's den, I would've taken him with me when I left. Even if it was only for a while, it would've been the protection he deserved. Still, Tony became a beautiful, intelligent, caring, compassionate, wonderful human being, rising out of the ashes like a phoenix. Perhaps it was for the best that I only interfered and didn't take him away, but...Harley and Kaia couldn't be left.

I entered the room, and Tony's eyes caught mine. He stood up from the bed, thinking I was ready to leave, but when he saw the look in my eyes, he knew what I was doing. I was making the right choice. I lowered myself onto Kaia's bed once more I shook her shoulder gently until her eyes fluttered open, "come on, Kaia, open your eyes. Wake up, little bird," I urged her as she blinked away the sleepiness in her eyes. She had only been asleep for a short time, but she hadn't reached the state of being immovable. I turned my attention back to Harley, "grab a bag and pack anything you want to take with you," I instructed as Kaia sat up in the bed, rubbing her eyes.

Harley furrowed his eyebrows, getting out of the bed, "where are we going?"

I motioned for him to close the space between us, and he did. I grasped his hands in my own, my eyes locking with his as I tried to convey the urgency I felt. I needed to return to Asgard in the first place, and that would be the safest place for them to go, "I promised to protect you, and I don't know when I'll be back to make good on that promise. I can't risk leaving you here and-in turn-leaving you in danger. I want to take you back to my world, both of you. It's a place where no one would dare hurt you ever again. You could live in peace. It's a beautiful place filled with people who I trust to protect you and care for you should I not manage to return. If I leave with Tony right now, I don't know what's going to happen, but I want to be sure of something. I want to be sure that you two are safe."

As Harley stood in disbelief, I continued, knowing that he wasn't expecting such a hefty proposal, "I will not force you to come with me, so if you decide to stay here, I promise to do everything I can to make it back as quickly as possible to protect you," I explained, not wanting either of them to think that I was going to steal them away if they didn't want to accompany me back to Asgard. They had every right to decide their own fate, though. They needed to have control of their own lives, and their mother robbed them of that,"if you _do _decide to come with me, though, I promise to make sure you have a roof over your heads, a loving home, and more joy than you could ever ask for. You'd never have to be afraid again, and if anyone were to raise a hand to either one of you for the rest of time, I'd be sure they lived the rest of their days _without_ their hands. Now, I know I'm still new to you, that we still have a lot left to learn about each other, but-"

Harley cut me off, "we're from the same star," he murmured, agreeing to my proposition. It was a lot to be asking of them, to uproot their lives and follow me to a world they never knew existed. It was a risk, but they were willing to take it, almost as if even as children, they had nothing left to lose.

My eyes filled with tears of joy because my heart was too full, and there was no other way for the emotions to escape. I turned my attention over to Kaia. She crawled out from under her blanket, and rested a little hand against my cheek, "I know who you are," she repeated the same words she told me earlier in the night, agreeing to the terms just as her brother did.

"And I know you," I responded, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. I wrapped my arm around her and stood up, her body attached to my side and resting on my hip. She wrapped her arms around my neck and held herself close to me.

My gaze turned to Tony, and he gave a proud nod, "this was the right choice, the choice I knew you'd make," he stated, his eyes filling with hope. I brushed past him with Harley following directly behind me, and I motioned for him to follow, "how long will you be gone?" he asked from behind me.

"Not very long," I answered, reaching the front door in the living room. I pushed it open and stepped outside, the cool air caressing the patches of skin that my armor left bare. Kaia clung even tighter to me as I turned around to lock eyes with Tony once I was far enough away from the house. I didn't want the Bifrost to blow a hole through the house, even though it would've been only a fraction of what she deserved for what she put her children through. My eyes lowered as a feeling of shame overcame me. I didn't want to admit that I needed closure with Loki, but I did. I needed to see him one more time, "I need to go to him, Tony, just for a short time. If this could be my final night alive, I have a lot that I've saved in my heart that he needs to hear. I'm prepared to give my life for you if need be, and I don't want there to be any reason for hesitations. I _will_ come back to you, though. Do you trust me?" I asked, needing to know that I wasn't going to be leaving him without hope.

"Always," he answered with a nod.

"I'll have Heimdall send me to you when you're stopped along the way, and if anything goes awry, I'll be here in a heartbeat," I promised before stepping away from him and into the open. I wrapped my arm around Harley, pulling him tight against my body, not wanting him to feel afraid. He wrapped his arms around my waist, aggravating the wound but filling me with warmth at the same time. I gazed up into the night sky, keeping both children in my strong embrace. Before I could even mutter his name, I saw the beam of light coming for us, and I prepared myself to return home.


	19. A Bleeding Rose

_After a full day running through the woods, making friends with the wolves, horses, and other gifts of nature that were contained within the large spanse of forest, father called me inside. Childhood was too boring for me, especially since Hjalmar was old enough to wield a sword, and I wasn't. Hjalmar was allowed to train with the eldest prince already, but father was always certain that my next nameday would bring about an age where I could learn to fight with my brother. It was always the next nameday, and when that one came around, it was postponed to the next one, and so on. I had met Loki that morning in the garden, and he snuck out of the palace to run through the forest with me. The animals within the woods settled when in my presence, so Loki could get close enough to pet them. They always liked him anyway, just as I did._

_Loki always got into trouble for leaving the confines of the palace, just like I did for leaving the walls of my home. Our punishments were different, though. Father didn't yell at me, but he spoke to me with a sternness that let me know how dangerous the outside world was. He tried to explain the unexplainable. His reasoning was something I didn't understand. I had seldom seen Asgard in all her beauty. I saw the rivers and brooks, the inside of the palace when the queen invited me to join her, the beauty of the trees, the life of the forest, but I never saw the bustling streets of Asgard or the famous rainbow bridge. I wanted to explore, but I wasn't allowed. Loki wasn't supposed to leave the palace, but he did. Often times, we would lay on opposite sides of the shrubs that separated the castle garden and the forest, and we would speak to each other or just bask in the calmness of knowing that there was someone close._

_I'd always fancied the younger prince, ever since I could remember, but I knew that it wasn't my place to speak of those feelings. He was a prince, and I was a common girl with nothing to my name. I had nothing to give him other than an adventure. Father didn't know of my feelings for the young prince, which was beneficial. It meant that he wouldn't try to keep us apart. He wouldn't put an end to my adventures in the woods or the many occasions when my father would invite Loki and Thor over to our humble cottage to give Thor time to train with Hjalmar and Loki time to roam the forest with me. I didn't want to think of giving up the time I spent with him, or the places we explored. I didn't want there to be an end to our friendship, but so many of the good things in my life did just that: came to an end._

_I sat in front of the fireplace with father, upset that I was being confined to the house once more. There was no true anger that I felt for my father, but I was mildly irritated that Hjalmar wasn't held to the same standards as I was. Hjalmar could venture out into the world beyond the forest, but I wasn't allowed, "I know that you like the woods, Eva, but...you can't run about all the time. The world isn't meant for you to explore," he told me, his voice as gentle as he could make it when his words were anything but. He knew that the rule broke my heart, that it slowly broke my spirits, but he also knew that it was a rule I couldn't follow._

"_But Hjalmar gets to explore all the time!" I cried, my voice threatening to give way to my emotions, "why is it that I'm kept hidden in this cottage? Why can't I see the world? Why can't I wander the woods? Why am I not allowed to do as Hjalmar does?" I asked, truly not understanding the reasoning behind the vastly different lives we lived._

_Father grasped my shoulders in his firm, calloused hands, hands that had seen so much war, so much pain, "I __want__ you to explore, Eva. I want you to be as free as Hjalmar. I want you to wander the woods and make friends with the animals and the trees. I want you to see Asgard and all she has to offer. I want you to run and play without boundaries, but there need to be boundaries because...the people of Asgard won't understand you," he explained, trying to be delicate with my heart. One thing I knew about my father was that he always tried to avoid causing harm, and it was especially true for his children._

_I shook my head, my bottom lip quivering, "but they'll never understand me if I'm locked away."_

When my eyes opened, the light of the Bifrost had faded away, and I stood before Heimdall once more in Asgard. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the two Midgardian children who clung to my body. While I knew that he had watched me struggle with grasping the sad reality that the children would experience should I leave them on Midgard alone, he was still shocked that I followed through with my plan to bring them back to Asgard. While I was known to bend the rules and keep secrets from Odin, I wasn't a criminal. I followed the laws of the land, but bringing Midgardian's back to Asgard was a crime, a crime Heimdall didn't expect me to make. I also wasn't known for leaving alone and returning with others. In fact, it was the other way around, "we're home," I whispered to Harley and Kaia.

Kaia lifted her head from my shoulder, and Harley turned around. Both of their eyes fluttered open to take in the beauty of Heimdall's observatory as well as the man who inhabited it. The gold armor that clung to his skin was reflected in Kaia's blue eyes, and her jaw hung slack as disbelief filled her. I released my grasp on her, and placed her down onto the floor of the observatory next to Harley. Their eyes scanned the intricate designs of the walls as my attention turned to Heimdall. Even though he was shocked by their presence, he still offered them a warm gaze before turning it to me. I could sense no anger or frustration from him, which was unexpected since I knew that I had broken the law. He looked almost relieved by the decision I had made, almost like the old version of myself was coming back to life, the part of me that I thought had died when I forfeited my life.

Before we could exchange greetings, he spoke, "there are two guards outside Ezra's cell in the dungeons, Sten and Erna; two standing guard at the top of the stairs, Ingvild and Magni; and two at the bottom of the stairs, Ephinea and Leif. There's a horse waiting for you right outside the observatory, and Sindri is waiting at the palace stables for your arrival," he explained, clearly understanding my intentions for returning to Asgard. While it took me by surprise, Heimdall had always been partial to Loki and I, even after Loki's betrayal. He cared for us and believed in us the way Odin failed to. I watched my eyes brighten in the reflection of Heimdall's amber ones, "each of the guards in the castle will allow you safe passage to the dungeons. They're all expecting you and have given their word to not say a single word about your presence to anyone, not even to the King himself. Ephinea may have used a few empty threats, but they didn't need much persuading. You'd be surprised where loyalties lie throughout Asgard," he explained.

His words caught me off guard. It was shocking to hear that so many people-so many of Odin's Kingsguard-would willingly keep secrets from their King just for me. Heimdall had obviously heard of my plans and sensed my urge to return to Asgard and spend time with my love, so he did the heavy-lifting for me in order to give me more time. Heimdall, the one who followed orders, would be disobeying his King, and it was for me. While I wanted to ask him what made me so special, I knew that it would be doing him a disservice. He did all of the planning in order to give me the time I desired with Loki, so to waste the precious time I did have would've been undermining all the work he had done

Instead, as I passed him, I grasped his right shoulder with my right hand and gave a slight bow of my head. When I lifted my eyes back to him, I watched as his gaze landed on my hand, and a warmth blossomed between us like it used to before I built up the walls around my heart-before my innocence was lost. It was a breath of fresh air. I could sense his joy-the _pride_-that built up in his chest. His eyes reconnected with mine again, "before you destroy his cell to get to him, just ask Ephinea to open it. I gave her the code before you arrived," he advised me, once more showing me how loyal he was to me. His voice lowered to nothing more than a whisper, "the children...I don't need to tell you that it's against Asgardian law for them to be here. Our king-"

I cut him off, "he is my king no longer," I hissed, thinking about what he had done to myself and my family for so long. If Ezra was truthful, and my visions were correct, Odin had torn my family apart, ripped me away from my only family. If he had no great love and care for me before, how could I assume that my actions would be overlooked? The repercussions of my decision to bring Harley and Kaia back with me would be serious. If Odin were to find out about the Midgardian presence on Asgard, he could have me tried and thrown into the dungeons for an indefinite amount of time. I could be banished from Asgard, or the children could even be sent back to Midgard.

If he tried to take them from me, though, he would be met with a fury and rage that Asgard has never known before. I knew what I was willing to do for the ones I cared about, and Odin wouldn't receive any special pardon just because he sat upon a throne. He had betrayed me after I pledged my life and sword to him. If my visions were true, he had betrayed me and my family before I had even outgrown my bassinet. He wasn't my king. I sighed, knowing that Heimdall didn't deserve my exasperation, "my hand was forced on this matter. They will be under my protection here. I will leave them with my father in the forest, and he will see to it that they are kept hidden there," I whispered, not wanting to alarm Harley and Kaia. They had known too much fear in their lives, and they didn't deserve anymore of it.

Heimdall gave a curt nod of his head, understanding that this was who I had always been. I knew that he hadn't forgotten me, the person I was before my heart was torn apart. He trusted my judgement, "your secrets will never be upon my lips, my princess. The Allfather will never hear of this from me," he promised.

"Thank you, Heimdall," I muttered, my appreciation clear on my face. His loyalty to me had never wavered, and I knew it wouldn't start now. He had always been the most surprising comrades. For a man who was sworn to be true to the throne, he had often ignored that oath to show his loyalty to me. He kept my secrets, lied to Odin about my whereabouts with Loki when we left for Midgard, used the power of the Bifrost to help _me_, and defended my honor to Odin time and time again. He placed his faith in me and knew that I wouldn't fail him.

With one final nod of approval from him, I lifted Kaia into my arms and grasped Harley's hand before hurrying out of the observatory. Like Heimdall had said, there was a horse waiting right outside for me. Small gasps emitted from Harley and Kaia as they took in the wonder of Asgard. Even though I'd seen it countless times, each time I returned, the view seemed even more beautiful than before. I fell in love with the landscape time and time again. No matter how much indifference I felt for the Allfather, I couldn't deny the beauty that was my home. As Harley and Kaia took in the sights of the golden palace and all that surrounded it, I lifted them onto the horse before hoisting myself up onto the back of the majestic beast behind them.

The ride to the modest cottage in the forest was familiar. It was a ride I had taken time and time again throughout my life, but my fear of returning home with two children in tow was similar to the fear I felt returning home without Hjalmar with me. The path leading up to the cottage was dark, lit only by the shimmering lights in the sky that reached through the forest canopy and down to where we were. When we were close enough to the cottage, I saw that there was that familiar torch still lit outside. Each time one or both of his children were away from home, he would light the torch at night. He told us that-should we return in the middle of the night-the torch would be there to guide us through the darkness and back home to him. He lit it each night until I decided to return home after Hjalmar's death, but there were other times he lit it when Hjalmar and I were both safe at home. On the same day each year-shortly after my nameday-he would light the torch, and it would be left burning until the morning. When I asked him about it, he'd cast a knowing look at Hjalmar, but he would never utter a single word of it to me. It was a tradition that happened all my life, but I never understood it.

Right before I made it to the cottage, the front door swung open, revealing my father. His shoulder-length, dark hair was pulled back into a small bun, much like the one Hjalmar used to wear. A smile was clear on his face once I got close enough, but that contagious smile fell when he saw the two children I had brought back with me. The look on his face wasn't one of disappointment, but it was one of understanding and mild concern. The law I was breaking was a serious one, but if my visions were correct, he had bent the rules in his favor a handful of times. I learned from my father. I brought home stray animals all the time in my childhood, wanting to give them a good, happy life. Now, I was bringing home children in hopes to do the same.

Pulling on the reins, the horse came to a halt, and I leapt from her back, guiding Harley and Kaia off of her and onto the sturdy ground below us. Once I had steadied them, I turned my attention over to Aaldir, who stood with tears in his eyes, "father," I breathed out, my voice quivering in unchecked emotions. I closed every ounce of space that sat between us and threw my arms around his neck. His strong arms wrapped around my waist, and he lifted me off the ground, holding me tightly against him.

"My little wolf," he greeted me in a whisper, his voice calm and quiet as he kept the nickname between the two of us. Even after he lowered me back down to the ground, I kept my arms wrapped tightly around him, not wanting to let go. I had so many questions to ask him, so many words to say to him, so much to learn from him. I hadn't seen him in what felt like years but what was only a few days. In that time, though, I was left with so much uncertainty and instability, and I needed his guidance once more. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of myself. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of what I was capable of and the impact it could have on others. Aaldir was my rock, my foundation, my guide, my protector. No matter how many namedays I celebrated, I would always need him by my side.

His hands snaked between us, breaking the hold I had on him. He cupped my cheeks in those calloused hands, pressing his lips to my forehead. My erratic heartbeat became clear to me, and I wondered how long it had been like that for a moment, but it finally began to fall into a steady rhythm in my chest. He pressed his forehead against mine, mirroring what I had done to Harley and Kaia in order to settle their nerves as well as what my father had always done to me, "I'm so glad you're home, little one," he rejoiced in a low voice, causing his chest to rumble. A smile spread across his lips as he spoke the words of joy, but I knew that I would be forced to break that joy.

"Actually," I began, pulling away from him and casting my gaze over at the children I had brought back with me. My eyes flickered between them, and I offered them a comforting smile, wanting them to feel as at-home as they possibly could. I turned my attention back to my father, "I'm only returning for the night. I came to see Loki and to bring them here...where they will live under my protection," I confessed, not wanting him to get his hopes up that I was finished with my business on Midgard. There was still a very real possibility that I wouldn't return home, and that was why I was trying to tie up every loose end I could find. I didn't want there to be a single word unsaid or a stone unturned, which was why I would visit Loki and confront him as myself, instead of an illusion.

He sighed, the smile fading from his lips as I anticipated it would. He turned his attention over to the two small children before him, still standing patiently at the side of the horse, "so, who's going to introduce me to the newest additions to the family?" he asked, a sincere, paternal smile spreading across his lips. He knew what I was doing by bringing them here. Even though it could be detrimental to my reputation and safety, he understood why I needed to make my decision.

I nodded my head, walking back to stand between Harley and Kaia. It was clear that neither children had too much experience with strangers, which was a good thing, but I knew how sudden all of this would feel for them. It was probably best to bring them to Asgard in the dead of night, when the majority of the population was asleep. If I decided to bring them back during the day, they would've been even more overwhelmed by the amount of people in the streets of Asgard. Still, this was an entirely new world for them and a new person who would be introduced into their lives. It was a lot to take in, but I knew that my father would be gentle with them. He knew how to make people feel at ease.

Kaia clung to my legs, and Harley wrapped his arms around my waist, both children trying to hide their faces against my body, "this is Harley and Kaia," I introduced them to my father, gesturing between the two of them. I gazed down at them before gesturing over to my father, "and this is Aaldir, the man who raised me...my father," I introduced him to them.

Aaldir knelt down onto the ground, understanding that his height-which was equal to that of my late brother, and thus slightly greater than that of the God of Thunder himself-could be intimidating to such small humans. His frame relaxed, and he made himself smaller, more approachable. His eyes flickered over to Harley, "you, young one, look like a little warrior already. I suppose you'll teach me more than I'll end up teaching you," he laughed, and I watched as a proud smile spread across Harley's face. My father had a way with people, with easing their nerves and making them feel welcome no matter what the circumstances. He was a force to be reckoned with when he was angry, and he was one of the greatest warriors Asgard had ever seen; however, throughout all my life, he made it clear that he was a father and a caretaker before anything else. He reminded me of my younger years as he spoke to the children.

Before he looked back up at me, his eyes caught Kaia's little blue ones, and he gazed up at me, "you, my fair little lady, will be a princess one day, or you may even be a warrior like your brother. If you're lucky, you can even have both, like my daughter," he whispered, gesturing over to me. I never understood how people could use the term "princess" so loosely that they would associate it with me; however, I didn't care much for semantics. Aaldir's eyes flickered between Harley and Kaia, "both of you will have beautiful futures here on Asgard, and I'm going to make sure of it," he promised, his eyes soft and welcoming just as they had always been. Everyone who was ever lost could find a home in our little cottage. My father loved to host people, and as long as he was around, no one ever went without. If I didn't return from Midgard, I was calmed by the knowledge that he would take care of Harley and Kaia the same way he took care of Hjalmar and I. They would live prosperous lives, lives filled with joy and laughter.

Kaia was the first to break away from me, her arms dropping from where they had once been wrapped tightly around my legs. I didn't try to hold her back from closing the distance between her and my father because I knew that he would never bring harm to any child, especially not ones I was taking in under my protection. Kaia's eyes scanned his body before she moved over to him as slowly as the breeze on a lazy summer morning. She was testing the waters, still unsure of him. It was so different from how she was with me, immediately running up to me and throwing herself onto me. As soon as she stood face-to-face with my father, she reached up and cupped his cheek. A smile spread across his lips, and his brilliant white teeth were exposed for a moment. It was a rare occurrence when he smiled like that, but with them, he did, "hello there, little bird," he mused, mimicking the nickname I had given to her.

"I know you, too," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck as a sign that she was ready to give her full trust to him, much like she did with me.

His large arms encased her little body, and he smiled to himself. It was a sense of pride that he was accepted into her heart, and it was similar to how I felt upon meeting both Harley and Kaia. He stood up, lifting her up off the ground and holding her against his side. His eyes locked with Harley's, "would you like to come inside?" he asked, his voice soft.

Harley nodded his head slowly, slightly hesitant. I knew that everything was so new to them, and Harley was having a difficult time accepting the changes. I had taken him to a new realm, and I was introducing him to a new man. He was comforted by the fact that I knew Aaldir. Harley had faith in me, and I had faith in my father, meaning that Harley-in a roundabout way-had faith in my father as well. He trusted me not to put him in danger, and I'd never break that trust. I rested my hand on Harley's shoulder and kept him close to me as we walked inside. The fire was still crackling in the fireplace, and the sound alone brought me back to the countless nights Hjalmar and I would sit by the fire as the rain poured down against the roof. He would wrap an arm around me and hold me close as my eyes studied the flames that licked the cobblestone.

I took my seat on one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, and my father took a seat in the one right across from me. Kaia climbed out of my father's lap and curled up onto my own while Harley sat at my feet on the floor, wringing his hands in his lap. There was seating around the fireplace that he could've taken up, but I knew this behavior well. He found himself in a new place, and he wanted to attach to what was familiar. I held Kaia close and ran my fingers through Harley's hair. My father smirked, "it's a modest little cottage, but this is where I raised my children. It's much more inviting and beautiful during the day, and there's always plenty to do," he explained, gesturing around the house.

I nodded my head in agreement, "this place-this little cottage-will be your new home as well," I added, gazing down into the beautiful, wonder-filled eyes of the children I was able to protect, ones who I wouldn't fail, "the house of fear and pain you both grew up in will never be replicated here. You'll never know hunger, abuse, or loneliness again. This is a place where you will be loved, protected, and cared for. You will know warmth and joy," I promised, brushing Harley's hair back before gazing into Kaia's eyes, "you will be free to live as children. You will receive an education that is tailored to you, and I'm going to support you in whatever lies ahead," I continued, knowing that support, love, and protection was what they needed in order to grow into the people I knew they could be.

"When you wake up in the morning, you will be introduced to the life we lead here. My father will show you both around the cottage and the land we tend to. Perhaps he'll even bring you to the tree and tell you the story of it as he once did with me at a young age," I suggested, glancing over at my father with a raised brow, "but for tonight, I must leave you. I have matters to tend to at the palace, and it's already far too late for you two to still be awake," I stated, smiling down at them to ease the tensing nerves I sensed when I mentioned that I'd have to leave them again. It was similar to when I mentioned it before tucking them both into bed. When I was finished in the dungeons, I'd head back to Midgard, so this could potentially be the final time they saw me. Still, I had complete faith that-should I perish on Midgard-my father would take care of them and raise them as he did me.

Neither of them protested the plan, but they just brought themselves closer to me. As soon as Kaia let out a little yawn, her eyelids becoming heavier over her doe blue eyes, I knew that it had been the longest day of their lives. So much had transpired, and they were both ready for bed. The warmth of the fire, the smell of the hot cobblestone mixed with the smell of the forest that was carried in by the soft breeze, and the sound from our family stable and the rustling leaves were enough to make anyone tired. I lifted Kaia up, settling her body on my hip, and I held my hand out for Harley. Once he rose to his feet, I led him into my bedroom, opening the door to reveal the place I grew up. It was my little section of the cottage, a place that belonged to me. Surely, my father would end up building onto the house once more to make extra room-a plan he spoke of often-but for the time being, Harley and Kaia needed a place to rest their heads.

I lowered Kaia into the bed first, watching as she nestled into the warmth of the blanket and pillows. Loki always teased me for the sheer amount of blankets and pillows I always requested on any bed we shared, but he was no better. Once Kaia was settled into the bed, Harley climbed in next to her, pulling the blankets up to his chin. I situated myself on the edge of the bed next to Harley, "I'm going to return before daybreak to see you both prior to me going back to Midgard. Don't wait up for me, though. My business at the palace will take some time, and you both need your sleep. The man I'm leaving you with is the man who raised my brother and I, so I know the type of man he is. If I didn't think he would treat you as his own, I wouldn't be leaving you with him. He's going to make you both feel at home here, and by the time he finishes showing you around tomorrow, I'll be back, okay?" I asked, wanting to make sure they were as comfortable as possible before I left them.

"But you _will_ come back, right?" Harley asked after nodding his head. There was a clear look of concern in his eyes, mirroring the concern he wore when I was preparing to leave with Tony. He was worried about me. It was the same worry I had when I was a child and my father was leaving for battle.

I knew that I couldn't lie to them, but I also couldn't let them down, not with their expectant eyes on me with so much hope. I sighed, knowing that my answer would need to be delivered in the most diplomatic way possible. It was a balancing act. I didn't want to startle them by being _too _hopeful, but I also didn't want to tell them about my situation with my sudden lack of strength and high probability of not returning, "I don't know what the future holds, little one, but I _do_ know that I have more reasons to return now than ever before," I answered, grasping onto his hand as my eyes flickered between the two of them, the two additional reasons for me to fight as hard as I could.

I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his forehead, lingering there for a moment as I tried to pour every ounce of maternal love I had into that one simple gesture. When I pulled my lips away, I rested my forehead against his own for a fleeting moment before moving on and repeating the process with Kaia. I transferred the most beautiful dreams to both of them, wanting them to sleep soundly without the fear that had continuously plagued them. I sat upright on the bed, gazing down at them, and the memory of my meeting with Frigga after Hjalmar's death resurfaced. She spoke the comforting words I wished I had heard from him, comforting words that I would carry with me for the rest of my life. In that moment with the children, it was my turn to pass on that wisdom to them, "know that if something happens-if I don't return-that nothing _truly_ dies, it simply retires for a while only to return again when we need it most. If I don't return, look to nature, and you'll always find me there," I smiled, "I love you both so much that _nothing_-not even death itself-could part me from you."

The plan at the stables worked exactly how Heimdall said it would. Sindri, the man who was in charge of the palace stables, waited patiently for my arrival. While he couldn't hide his joy that I had returned, he didn't make a scene about it, either. There was a joy in his eyes that I'd only seen when the common people looked at Thor or Odin. They were almost...awe-struck. I didn't understand why I received the same attention, but it was clear to see that I held a place in certain hearts around Asgard. Sindri whispered to me about how glad he was that I had returned, even if it was only for a short time, and as he stumbled over his words, I wrung my hands slightly, feeling the anticipation creeping up with the thoughts of seeing Loki in person once again. The previous time hadn't ended well at all, so I was taking another calculated risk.

I handed the beautiful, chestnut mare away, understanding why Heimdall had chosen one that was so plain. It was so that just in case anyone had caught a glimpse of the horse, they wouldn't know if it was me. My own horse, Aria, was pale white. She had carried me into battle more times than I could count, and she left the battles with me, oftentimes covered in blood. She came to me in the strangest of ways, too. There was one night, late in the evening, when I heard a voice in the forest that sounded familiar but foreign all at the same time. It was the voice of a woman, but I couldn't decipher her message. Instead of waking my father and brother to accompany me, I grabbed a torch and wandered through the woods, following the strange voice. It seemed to pull me in each direction, never staying in one place, almost like the voice wanted me to get lost.

Every step I took that night felt like I was growing both closer and farther away from the voice I desperately wanted to make myself acquainted with. With each step, though, her voice became clearer, even when it did seem to distance itself from me. My name was upon her lips, an enchanting sound that I hadn't heard before then, but it was a sound I had familiarized myself with through my visions of the past. While I didn't know who it was at the time, I knew her now. Death. That night, Death called to me, lured me into the forest, and left me a gift. Her voice did nothing but pull me in. Each time I heard it, whether I was dreaming, having a vision, or in the comfort of my own home, her voice captivated me and left me unable to fight back the urge to seek her out.

When I had finally reached that familiar tree-the tree of life and death-the voice suddenly stopped as I gazed upon the beautiful horse. She was magnificent. Her body looked strong, and she was taller than any horse in Asgard, but she was more agile than any other, too. She was a majestic beast with a pale white coat and an ashen mane and tail. She was beautiful, strong, and brave. She was a creature infused with a strange sorcery. She had received wounds and blows that would've killed any other stallion or mare, wounds that _should_ have killed her, but she continued on, strong as ever. By the time I brought her back home, her wounds had healed completely, and she was only left in her blood, my blood, or the blood of others who perished on the battlefield. She was famous for being my horse, so when she was seen around Asgard, people knew I was present. That was the last thing I needed when I was trying to sneak around.

With my gown flowing behind me, I walked through the halls of the palace as quickly as possible, passing by a plethora of guards who simply gave small nods as I passed by, but they never brought any attention to me as they normally did. Normally, most of the guards would strike up a conversation, but that night was different. It was just as Heimdall had said. My presence wouldn't be spoken of in the morning. The guards would keep my secrets, looking in the opposite direction as if they were oblivious. As I padded through the winding halls of the palace, trying to avoid the places I feared I'd be caught by Frigga or Odin, I passed by one of the many balconies Loki and I had stood upon to gaze out at the world we loved so dearly, a world that never fully accepted us.

Upon crossing that balcony, I cast my eyes out to catch a glimpse of Asgard only to find that the balcony had not been empty. With her back facing me, I hoped not to catch the attention of my queen, the woman who helped raise me, the woman who knew more about me than almost anyone else. I knew that Frigga had often taken late night strolls through the castle, which was something I partook in when I spent the night in Loki's chambers-a frequent occurrence. When the moon hit a certain position in the sky, I knew that it was time to leave the warm arms of my life, dress myself, and walk the halls of the palace with his mother, listening to stories of his boyhood. Most of the memories were ones I had been present for, as there had rarely been a moment Loki and I _weren't _together, but there were others as well: beautiful moments.

Not wanting to risk being caught and kept from my plans to visit Loki, I tried to step back as quickly as possible. There were other ways to the dungeons, other hallways that wouldn't result in my presence being discovered by the Allfather. I knew the palace like the back of my hand, almost as if I had grown up there. While Odin rarely appreciated my presence within the walls of the castle when I was a child, Frigga argued on my behalf time and time again, telling him that it was just as much my home as it was Thor and Loki's. She knew that wherever Loki was, that was where I wanted to be, regardless of where that was-in the middle of the beautiful palace gardens, or in the middle of the battlefield.

Before I could walk away, her voice pierced through the silence, "your presence has been missed greatly throughout Asgard," she murmured as she turned around to face me, "the people here feel lost without you," she added, a smile forming on her lips as her eyes took me in. The dress I wore was one Frigga had made for me upon my request. She often sent tailors to the cottage in the woods to inquire about new gowns, and the one I stood in front of her in was one I hadn't worn in too long. It was the one I wore on the last beautiful day, the day my life came crashing down, the day I realized I'd have to face so much on my own, the day Loki left. Loki had often called the gown ethereal, and every time I wore it, he reacted as if it was the first time he laid eyes on me.

Knowing that I'd been caught, my heart sank. There was a very real possibility that she would divulge the news of my return to Odin, and I wouldn't be able to visit Loki as I had planned. I forced a half-hearted smile onto my lips, trying to keep myself from crying. All the planning that Heimdall had done, all the oaths the guards were breaking, all the people who turned a blind eye to my presence to allow me the freedom I desired-their efforts would be in vain. Frigga motioned for me to join her on the balcony, and she turned around once more to face the wide open horizon. I took my place next to her as I had done so many times before. She often found Loki and I on the same balcony, the two of us dreaming of the world we would create together. Her voice sounded from beside me, "I understand you're on your way to see him, and I don't want to impede on the already limited time you have with him. I just hope you know that I'm glad you're back, even if it's only for tonight."

My breath hitched in my throat as I gazed over at her, the moonlight catching a stray lock of hair that brushed against her cheek. My eyebrows furrowed as I thought of _why_ she had always taken my side. Keeping my secrets was nothing new for Frigga, but I didn't know whether or not I could expect the same kindness upon returning from Midgard after leaving in some of the more dire circumstances. A part of me felt like I had abandoned my people, the people I looked after for more than a thousand years, and I was certain they would see it in a similar light. Only a handful of people understood my love for the Midgardians, and even fewer understood why I would sacrifice my life to protect even one of them. Frigga was one of those people, but I didn't expect her to be so welcoming after my "betrayal" of sorts. In a time when Asgard was in need of our best defenses, I disappeared to Midgard. Why _would_ she extend a hand to me? What made me special in the first place? I cocked my head to the side, "you're not going to tell the Allfather?"

She smirked as a feather-light chuckle was held back by her lips. Blue eyes that I'd stared into a thousand times throughout my life when I needed guidance locked onto mine, "you'd be surprised where loyalties lie around Asgard, my dear," she murmured, her words mimicking those of Heimdall after he described the plan he helped devise for me. Frigga made it abundantly clear that she had been in on that plan, and I knew, deep down, that she must've played one of the most vocal roles in it. She brought her hand up to rest on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, "I do what I believe to be right, and I believe in you and my son, my little trickster. Go to him," she urged me, gesturing to the hall I had once inhabited before our encounter.

I glanced back at the hall, feeling just how close I was to Loki, how close I was to what could be the end of my life. There was so much that was left to do, so much that was left to be said. Loki and I lived so many beautiful years together, and the idea that this could very well be my last time to be with him made me want to postpone it and hurl myself right into it all at once. There was also the fear that he could've changed his mind again. Since he left me that day in the garden, there had been a constant back and forth between the two of us. How was I supposed to know if his feelings were still the same as they were when I visited him in his moment of fear and need? Before I could bring myself to move, my eyes met Frigga's hopeful ones once more, "could I ask something of you?"

"I will check on them both first thing in the morning," she answered before I could even ask the favor of her. She knew exactly what I was going to request: that she look out for the children I brought back with me. I didn't know how she knew about them, but I'd never been able to keep secrets from Frigga for very long, "do you think you're the only one who watches?" she asked, clearly referencing the amount of time I spent at the edge of Asgard, inquiring about the many souls I looked after. Loki was one of those souls as well. When he cut all ties with me, I still wanted to keep an eye on him, to make sure he was okay. I'd ask Heimdall to check in on him every night when I snuck out to his observatory. Frigga broke me away from my thoughts, "when you're gone, I keep a close eye on you just as you do everyone else. I knew you'd be bringing them back from the first moment you laid eyes on Harley. I'll have clothes made for them immediately, and they will be taken care of until you return home. While you're on Midgard, I want you to focus on nothing aside from making it back to us, so know that they'll be in good hands."

Without fully understanding _why_ she would be so kind to me, I was overcome with so much joy to have someone like her on my side. It drove home what I'd always known. Frigga would have my back and support me in every single thing I ever endured, every journey I ever embarked on. I threw my arms around her, breathing in the familiar scent of her. It was a feeling of comfort, a moment of peace I had in a time that seemed so chaotic. Frigga had-for my entire life-been the only mother I'd ever known. She did what I dreamed my own mother would've done for me. The thoughts of my own mother, the mystery surrounding her and her identity, brought up the many visions once more. I tried to suppress those thoughts as Frigga's arms wrapped around my waist, "if you decide to bring someone else back home...I still have the dress I made for _her_ as well."

*Loki's POV*

I laid in bed, my back facing the cell wall that would remain sealed until the day I died. Odin would never release me, nor should he. I didn't deserve another sunrise, not after all I had done, but I'd be lying if I claimed not to yearn for the warmth against my face once more, or the cool night air against my cheeks as I ran through the woods with my love. I faced away from the wall partly to keep myself from facing the people I once knew as friends and partly to avoid the ever-watchful eyes of Ezra. His manipulation was continuing to take its toll on me. I had to constantly keep my mind locked up in order to keep him out, but it also meant that I was keeping Eva out as well, a person I never wanted to push out again.

Every time I closed my eyes since that night, I saw the same view of her dead body on the streets of Asgard. I couldn't sleep because I was forced to relive that nightmare, hearing her scream out to me for help, seeing her lifeless body covered in blood. It was the most intimate pain he could've put me through. It was as if he could just sense what I was most afraid of and use that fear against me. My greatest fear always had been and always would be the thought of losing her. Thanos knew it, and Ezra discovered it. I had done heinous things when Eva's life was on the line. Thanos used that fear against me in order to control me, and when I slipped far enough into the madness, he didn't even need to use that fear anymore.

In my state of madness and delusion, I told myself that I was far too damaged at that point for her to ever love me again, so I began my path of destruction and chaos. I took my anger and pain out on everyone else in my wake, tearing apart the lives that I promised to protect at one point. Her and I had made sacred oaths to do all we could to protect the people of Earth, believing them to be some of the most intriguing, fragile, and even resilient people. I tore that oath apart when I attacked New York. It was the day the madness tried to kill away the last part of who I was. The most terrifying thought was that Ezra could so easily build back up that fear and delusion because he knew what made me the most vulnerable.

Suddenly, there was a silence that fell upon the entire dungeon. Normally, the other prisoners were beating on their cell walls, yelling, trying to provoke a fight with one another, or trying to provoke fights with the guards. They were an unruly group, and Ezra was the only one who had been restrained in his time in the dungeons so far. His silence came as no shock to me, but the sudden silence that fell over everyone was uncharacteristic. Still, I couldn't be bothered to even roll over to look at what had caused the sudden disruption. Instead, I continued staring at the wall where I had begun to hang Eva's many letters, wanting to surround myself with their love. Even though I couldn't have her presence in my mind, I could feel her presence through the beautiful words she had written to me over the millennia.

"Loki," I heard that all-too-familiar voice from behind me. For a moment, I wondered if Ezra had broken past the walls of my mind once more, if I somehow had failed to keep him out. Still, I couldn't pass up any opportunity to see her. Hoping it wouldn't be a disembodied voice, I rolled over to see her standing inside my cell.

Knowing that it was impossible for her to _actually_ be there, I sat up in bed, groaning as I pushed myself up. Either she was visiting me as an illusion-which would be incredible, since she was on Midgard-or Ezra was building up another horrific narrative that I'd be forced to go through. No matter what it was, I didn't have the strength to have my heart broken once more. I turned my attention over to Ezra in his cell only to see that he was looking at her with just as much confusion and disbelief as the rest of the prisoners had. She was the only one who could ever silence them. Before my fall, Eva used to frequent the dungeons and speak to the prisoners, claiming that every living being deserved to experience life. By visiting them, she was restoring pieces of their humanity. They always stopped bickering and yelling when she arrived, and they did the same that night, "the illusions are cruel, Eva," I growled as I narrowed my eyes at her, certain that it was a vision since Ezra looked to be taken aback by her presence. Still, if she was visiting _me_ as an illusion, it didn't make sense that other people were able to see her as well.

"It's not an illusion," she claimed, the side of her mouth pulling up into that crooked grin that I fell hard for in our younger years. Ever since our childhood, I was wrapped around her finger. Every free moment, we spent together. Even when we were meant to be busy doing other things, we found our way to each other. The crooked grin was one of those little quirks about her that I still found to be lovely.

"Pfft," I scoffed, rolling my eyes at her claim, not believing her for a single second, though it would've made sense as to how the rest of the prisoners were able to see her, "and I'm going to be the King of Asgard someday," I mocked, not wanting to get my hopes up. Holding her was something I yearned for since the very day I left her in the garden, since the day I broke her heart in two. However, I knew that I would die without receiving that connection again. I'd never be able to feel the delicate, sweet touch of my love ever again, and I'd never be able to feel that soft, supple skin against my own for the rest of my days. I deserved every ounce of punishment I was given. Odin didn't want to put me out of my misery. He wanted me to live every single day with the guilt and shame I felt. Killing me would've been too merciful.

"I should probably start referring to you as 'majesty' then, shall I?" she asked, mocking me right back as she always had. Eva had never once given me a reason to question her. When she made promises, she kept them, and when she said something, she meant it. She wasn't the type to lie or be deceitful, so it wouldn't make sense for her to start now. Still sensing that I wasn't fully convinced, that I wasn't willing to throw myself at her feet until I knew-without the shadow of a doubt-that she was _actually_ standing before me, she sighed, "close the doors of your mind. Shut me out. You've done it before," she instructed me, referencing the handful of times when I had pushed her from my mind, when I strained the connection we had to one another. Eva always told me that we were bound together by a thread of stardust, and I was aware that whenever I pushed her away, it put pressure on that thread.

The process of shutting her out, of ripping her away from me, left me feeling cold and isolated. It took its toll on my emotions, but I wanted to prove her wrong in that moment. Coming to me as an illusion was one of the cruelest things she could've done, but she didn't understand that, and she never should. It was similar to holding a piece of red meat in front of the face of a starving predator. I was starved for her touch, the feel of her gentle, loving, beautiful, sun-kissed skin against my own. I yearned to hold her, to wrap my arms around her just one more time, even though I'd be hard-pressed to let her go. I wanted to fall asleep in her arms, to hear her sing me to sleep as she had so many times before. A part of me would rather see nothing than see a vision of her.

My eyes connected with those brilliant green ones. Each time I saw them, they were more beautiful than last time, but they were also much more despondent. It was as if she took in the most breathtaking sights from her travels, and her eyes reflected that, but they also reflected the horror and sorrow she witnessed along with the beauty. So much of that pain happened after I left her in the garden, after I spoke with Odin, after I tore us apart in order to save us _both_ from the long-term misery. Before that moment, the pain in her eyes wasn't as prevalent. Her eyes were a window into her free-spirited soul, and I had a hand in tainting that.

As I closed my eyes, I came to terms with the fact that when I opened them, she wouldn't be in my cell with me. The only two explanations as to how she was in my cell on that night was that Ezra put her in my head or that Eva was projecting herself to me. Either way, the process of closing my mind would push them both out, and she would be gone. A stray tear cascaded down my cheek as I wished for my suffering to come to an end. I wanted to hold her, and seeing her as a vision was a constant reminder that I'd never be able to do that again. It was a reminder that I threw away my one chance at happiness when I distanced myself from her. The woman who stood by my side was the one I cast away.

Upon opening my eyes, the pain having run its course, I expected to see an empty cell. Instead, I was caught off-guard to see that she was still present, a tender smile making its home on her lips. She still stood on the other side of my cell in the dress I found to encompass her eloquent beauty better than any other garment. She knew it was my favorite gown of hers, as it made her look like a proper goddess. When she wore it, we would often find our peace in the forest, and I'd busy myself making a crown of flowers, leaves, and twigs for her to wear. Upon placing the crown atop her head of wild, dark brown hair, I'd call her a proper wood nymph, which always elicited a laugh that spread happiness and joy into my very soul.

Before she could speak, before I could even comprehend that she was standing before me in the flesh, I shot out of the bed and scrambled over to her, throwing my arms around her slender frame. My arms wrapped tightly around her waist as I tried to pull her closer and closer into me. It was almost as if we would never be close enough until we molded into one being. Suddenly, my entire world felt like it exploded with life. As I held her, the colors in the room seemed to become more vivid than they had once been. I buried my face into her neck, breathing in the sweet smell of her. She always smelled of the forest, which wasn't uncommon since she spent the majority of her time there, but she also smelled like a fresh spring morning. In those small details, I knew it wasn't just a dream.

Her arms wrapped around me, holding me close to her as the joy overcame me and manifested itself in a way it had only a handful of times in the past. Tears began to freely fall from my eyes as I held onto the one thing I let go of because of my fear and pain. She was like a breath of fresh air when I was drowning, and even though I was undeserving of that, it didn't mean I appreciated it any less. I shook my head, still in utter disbelief, as my tears soaked into her shoulder. It was as if every ounce of pain and grief had led up to that very moment, and I could truly feel just how heavy my actions weighed on her. I pulled away from her just enough to gather her face in my hands and turn her head up until our eyes met.

Her cheeks were wet with fresh tears, and I watched as droplets of both joy and sorrow continued to spill from her eyes. I shook my head, wiping them away with the pads of my fingers just as quickly as they were falling. The last thing I wanted was to see her cry, but the moment was overwhelming for both of us. For some reason, she missed me just as much as I missed her. It would've been easier on her heart if she just tossed me aside and forgot about me; however, I knew her well enough to know that she'd never do something so cruel...not like me. My bottom lip quivered as I held back a sob, "I'm sorry, Eva. I'm so sorry. I cannot say the words enough to make up for all the harm I've caused you, all the pain and suffering I've put you through. There was always a reason for it, but that reason is foreign to me now. I'll spend my entire life trying to make it up to you," I promised, pressing my forehead against hers and relishing in the feeling of her skin against my own. Gods, I missed that.

Before I could move away from her, she grasped the back of my neck, and in one swift motion, she pressed her lips against my own. It was very much like our first kiss. It started quickly, but the moment our lips met, we began to melt into one another. Our lips molded together perfectly, much like our bodies always had. After a passionate night, I would hold her close to me, our bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle that we both knew how to solve from the beginning. No matter how we held each other, our jagged edges just fit into the other perfectly. Our broken hearts still had plenty of room for each other, and I felt that once again. For the longest time, I debated whether or not she wanted to see me again, and if she saw me, I was sure we'd never again share the love we once had. My doubts were put to rest the moment she kissed me, though. The soft, tender touch of her lips against mine pulled me back to the man I was in the garden...

The man who stood before her with a ring in his pocket.

As the initial shock wore off, I gathered her body in my arms and pulled her flush against me. Her body arched into mine as our lips danced to a song only we knew the words to. Her right palm was flat against my cheek, and she draped her left arm over my shoulder and tangled her slender fingers into my wild black waves. The kiss was needy in a pure sense. Throughout the course of our lives, we were with each other. Even as children, we found comfort in each other far more than we found comfort being apart. We never spent more than a day without one another, and our love blossomed through that closeness. Being with her, I never felt lost. I always felt like I belonged somewhere, and that was in her warm embrace. She was my home. The kiss we shared was our acceptance that this was where we were meant to be: together.

"I wanted to hate you," she confessed as she pulled away from the kiss that left the sweetest taste upon my lips. I continued to hold her against me, feeling that the closeness was what she desired more than anything in that moment. Her conflicted eyes met mine once more as she spilled her heart out to me, "I wanted to hate you so badly because maybe if I did, the pain would've died away, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself to hate you even after everything you had done, after all the promises you broke, after all the lives that were lost, after all the time that was taken away from us. It took me so long to understand that the man who did that-the man who broke my heart-wasn't you. The man who tried to kill away my love took every ounce of happiness I'd ever felt in my life, but...I still love you because that _wasn't _you," she added, the tears continuing to stream down her cheeks.

I cast my eyes away from hers, unable to look at what I had done to the woman I loved so dearly. I never stopped loving Eva, even during our time apart. The thread that bound our hearts together had never been broken no matter how many times I tried to cut it. We were one being, and nothing I had done was able to change that. All it did was cause the two of us so much unneeded pain. My decisions, my corruption, my descent into madness had caused her so much unbelievable pain and agony, and I felt it all when I looked into her eyes. It was the first moment we were able to speak of the tragedy that plagued our relationship, and it pained me so deeply that I hurt the woman I promised to protect so many years prior. The hand that still rested on my cheek turned my head until our eyes met once more. She observed me, her eyes flickering between mine as I opened my mouth to speak, "if I could go back with all the knowledge I now possess, I would've forfeited the rest of my life if it meant saving you from the agony I put you through. You deserved the very best of me, and I failed you. I never would've pushed you away in the first place. I would've grabbed your hand and asked you to run away with me, but I didn't. I think about that every single day."

She shook her head, "listen to me when I tell you this, Loki," she urged me, moving the hand that had once been tangled in my hair to rest against the other side of my face. She cradled my head in her strong, loving hands. That was one of the most stunning things about my beloved. Her strength never diminished her beauty, and her beauty never diminished her strength. They worked in perfect harmony. She was delicate and fragile, but she was also strong and brave. She was fierce and protective, but she was also tender and quiet. It was the most incredible phenomenon, and I was still left in awe when thinking about the woman I had the privilege of loving for so long, "the man you became was _not_ who you are, and I know that. I know you better than I know myself. The man who did those things was hurt, angry, and full of grief, and he tried to push you aside to make room for himself."

"The man who left me in the garden that day wasn't the same man who picked a small bouquet of flowers every single day like it was the first time we were seeing each other. He wasn't the same man who laid awake with me after a private night of love to dream of what our future family would look like. The man who hurt me wasn't the same man who loved me. You taught me some of life's most valuable lessons, Loki, and you did it by loving me. For a thousand years, you stood by my side and picked me up when I fell. Now, it's my turn to show you that I'm prepared to do the same for you because I still love you after all this time, after all the space that has been put between us. Nothing and no one has ever been able to change that, and they never will. I've loved you since before the first star began to shine at the beginning of time, and I'll love you long after the last one burns out."

My hands cut between hers and I caressed her cheeks with my long fingers. They had always been one of her favorite things about me-my hands. I was unsure as to why she was so fascinated with them, but when she described her love for them, her poetic nature showed through time and time again. She claimed that from the very first moment we lost ourselves in each other, she watched my fingers whenever we spent the night together. My anticipation for our first night together was clear in the trembling of my fingers, which was something I found embarrassing, but it was something she found endearing and memorable. It happened in the moments of excitement, love, and fear. My fingers anchored themselves against her cheeks. One of her hands covered mine while the other rested against my chest, directly over my heart. I sighed, "I hurt you in ways I can never make up for, and I'll be searching for redemption until I take my last breath, Eva. I'll never be able to forgive myself for what I've done," I confessed, tears continuing to stream down my cheeks.

"I've forgiven you, though," she whispered, her voice like a feather-light touch in the early hours of the morning. Her eyes filled with the same determination I saw from her time and time again, but there was more clarity than ever before, "I forgave you for all of it the moment I saw that you were alive on Midgard. I forgave you for what happened in New York when I saw how much pain you were in. I've forgiven you, and I'm going to help you forgive yourself no matter what it takes."

I shook my head, unable to understand how someone who was filled with so much light would venture into the darkness to meet me where I had been dwelling for so long. She was still the embodiment of righteousness and purity. She valued life above all else, and when she fought, she fought _for_ life. On Midgard, she saw a side of me that wanted to ruin that, a side of me that was selfish and cruel. I didn't understand why or how she could possibly forgive something so horrific, "I'm a monster," I reminded her, stepping away from her and disconnecting our bodies from one another. The cold set in once more, but it was more shocking when I had finally experienced the warmth again.

Frustration filled her eyes as my words sunk in. She hated it when I used the word "monster" to describe myself, but it was the truth. I had always been a monster, and I was convinced that she had just been too blinded by our love to see that. I didn't see my goodness the way she claimed to, and after everything I had done, everything I willingly took part in, there was nothing good left within me at all. She refused to let me go, though, "you're the man I love, the only man I'll _ever_ love. You're Loki, the God of Mischief, a Prince of Asgard. You're one of the greatest sorcerers this realm has ever seen. You're a poet, a composer, a work of art. You're my love, my light, and my life," she explained, closing the space between us, her eyes pleading with me to understand, "you are _so _much, Loki, but you've _never _been a monster."

"What about New York?" I pressed, wanting her to see me for what I had done.

"You were a man who was taken advantage of by a monster, a man who was manipulated and torn to pieces. Do I wish that things had played out differently? Of course, I do, but I don't have the time or the energy to think of what could have been when I'm with you right now, ready to show you all the love I've saved since the garden. Besides, the monster in New York wasn't you...it was _Thanos_," she hissed, his name like venom on her tongue. It was startling to hear her speak his name. That was a name I never wanted to hear on the tongue of my beloved. She knew of him, and that was too dangerous. All I could think of was that she would try to avenge me for what I went through prior to New York, and she would be killed in the process.

Her eyes flickered away from mine, and I noticed a hue in them that I'd never seen before. A hint of red, like the color of a bleeding rose, infiltrated the color of the meadow. I'd never seen anything like it before, but by the time she blinked, it was gone, and I wondered if it was only in my imagination. She cast her eyes back up to meet mine, and I saw the rage in her, "when I find Thanos-and I _will_-he's going to beg for death when he sees what I do to him. I'm going to tear him apart and make him hurt in ways he's never even imagined. All the pain I've felt over this will pale in comparison to what I will do to him, and when I'm finally done with him, when I've finally had enough, I'm going to rip his life apart. Every person he's ever loved, ever cared for, ever _spoken to_ will feel my fire. His memory will be eradicated from the universe before I kill him in the most brutal way imaginable. All the while, I plan to enjoy the way he screams, the way he begs for his life. He doesn't know death yet; _he hasn't met me_," she ranted, catching me off guard.

In all our time with each other, in the thousand years we'd spent together, I had never heard a single word of hatred and contempt upon her lips. She was the most merciful, kind-hearted, gentle woman in the known and unknown universe. She breathed life and goodness into everything she did. To hear her speak so harshly about a man she had never met, a man who could end her life with the snap of his fingers, was horrifying. I knew that she was a force to be reckoned with, but I never expected to see so much hatred in a woman who showed nothing but love. The contempt in her eyes, the brutality in her voice, the violent desires she had, I knew it all. I knew that look. I knew those feelings. It was dangerous. It was chaotic. It was destructive. It was…

_Madness_.


	20. With a Blade of Grass

Ephinea needed no convincing to let Loki and I out of the cell for the night. She understood that I would, under no circumstances, let him out of my sight and allow him to run off, and I trusted Loki not to betray me again. He deserved freedom and the opportunity to grow, and he received none of that in the dungeons. The thing Loki and I needed most was privacy. I wanted to talk to him, to pick him apart once more, and I wanted him to hold me like he used to. Seeing him, feeling him, holding him, breathed life back into me that night. It would make it even harder to leave, but it was also making it more appealing to return once Tony and I were finished with the Mandarin.

Loki and I ran through the forest hand-in-hand, making our way to the tree we fell in love beneath. We celebrated so many things under the watchful gaze of the essence of life that emanated from that wondrous part of Asgard's natural world. It was always our typical meeting spot, too. I'd often find him waiting there for me in the morning. He'd be propped up against the trunk, scribbling a cacophony of words into a journal. It was the one thing that was tangible proof of his incredible mind. Words filled with love, anger, sadness, joy, and loneliness filled the pages of his journals, but they were never words he kept from me in all our time together.

When we reached the tree, hundreds of memories flooded my mind, and based on the look in his eyes, I knew that the same memories arose for him as well. The tree had become our meeting place shortly into our love affair. We were still young when Loki and I spoke of running away together and going to Midgard to wed and spend the rest of our lives among the Midgardians. Odin never seemed fond of our relationship, and we tried to keep it as far away from the palace as possible at first. We never showed any affection in front of Odin, but the longer we were with each other, the more comfortable we became with moving our love closer to the palace. First, we would spend evenings in the garden, and that blossomed into walks around the palace halls, my arm draped delicately through Loki's. Then, we would spend nights in Loki's chambers.

The first night felt strange just because Loki had always spent the night in the cottage with me. My father considered him family and even left the torch lit for Loki, something he continued even after we had parted ways. My father loved Loki, and he loved how happy I was when I was with him. He respected my wishes to spend my life with the trickster, and he supported us in our relationship. He kept our love a secret until _we _couldn't keep it hidden. Odin's clear distaste for our love was what led Loki to bring up the option of running away together. Even though he was aware of his duties as a potential future ruler of Asgard, he was willing to throw it all away if it meant spending the rest of our lives together. The plan to run away was one of many, but it never pursued further than us meeting at the tree in the night and talking ourselves out of it.

We both had personal duties, and we had our families. Loki didn't want to think of leaving Thor or Frigga because they were two of his best friends-his _family_. He also didn't want to lose the connection he had to my father or Hjalmar. Hjalmar and Loki had been fairly close during our childhood, and I could only imagine how deeply my brother's death had affected my love. I grasped his hand, successfully pulling his gaze away from the tree until his eyes locked with mine, "sit with me, hold me, _exist_ with me," I pleaded, wanting him to be as present with me as he possibly could. Loki nodded his head, lowering himself onto the ground, and leaning his back against the trunk of our tree.

His eyes stayed locked with mine as I took my place beside him. The gaze was the same as it was before we parted ways. He still looked at me as if I was the only woman in the world, like the very breath from within him was taken away by the mere sight of me. A warmth overcame my cheeks, and I attempted to hide it, turning my gaze away from him as I lowered myself onto the ground at his side. His right arm snaked around me and pulled me closer while his left hand reached up between us and grasped my chin. He tilted my head up until our eyes met once more, and a grin spread across his lips, "don't hide yourself from me, my love, for you are more beautiful than the stars in the night sky. I don't deserve to look upon them, but if I am given that great honor, it would be a terrible shame to miss even a second of their glory. I beg of you...do not rob me of such a miraculous sight," he whispered against my lips, my heart flipping with each word he uttered, symbols of a love I was almost certain had been lost.

His eyes were familiar again, filled with love, adoration, wonder, and determination. My right hand reached between us as a smile overtook my lips, and I pressed my palm to his cheek, "if it is your wish for me to not hide myself from you, I will respect that. However, I wish the same from you," I confessed, stroking his cheek with my fingers. He nodded his head, agreeing to the terms. There was one question that had been lingering on my mind since the day Loki left me in the garden, and, though I had some answers from Thor, I still needed to hear what Loki had to say. I cleared my throat, gazing down at our hands. I lifted them and pressed my lips to the back of his hand, lingering there for a moment as the feel of his warmth spread through me. When I finally pulled away, I built up the courage to speak, "the day we were in the garden, you left to talk to your father, and the next conversation we had was...the _last_ conversation we had, really. What happened?"

Loki sighed, his eyes disconnecting with mine and turning into the darkness of the forest. The only light came from the stars above us, reaching down through the forest canopy and falling upon our skin. His eyes darkened with sadness, the same despair I saw that day, but this was different. He wasn't hiding his pain under the facade of anger and rage. Instead, he was letting me see his grief. He was reliving every second of that day, and I knew how hard it must've been for him. Part of me wished I hadn't asked, blamed myself for this grief, but I needed to know what happened in order for us to move forward. There were things we no longer knew about each other, and that was strange for us. He let out a long breath before turning his eyes back to me, ready to tell me, "I spoke to my father about you," he murmured, his voice trembling.

I knew he was going to continue explaining the past to me, so I remained silent, giving him the time he needed to gather himself. Tears rose to his eyes as he thought of the day. Just as he always did, he refused to hide his pain from me. A stray tear fell before he swallowed back his emotions and continued, "I had been begging my father for an hour of his time for some time, asking him to allow me the time to speak candidly to him without distractions. He never found time until that day when we were in the garden, and I…" his voice trailed off as the emotions began to overcome him once more, "let me show you," he insisted, closing his eyes and grasping my hand even tighter than before. I closed my eyes with him and found his mind, a place I knew as my home.

_I stood in Odin's war room, a place I had been countless times before. However, usually when the war room was being used, there was a larger group of people stood around the table. In that instance, the large room was inhabited only by Odin and a younger Loki. His hair was still long, falling slightly below his broad shoulders. That night, he would cut it, and with it, he cut away the final shred of __us__. I glanced over to my side to see the present day Loki looking on to the scene, clearly disturbed and upset by what was about to play out. I reached between us and grasped his hand, anchoring him once more, wordlessly reminding him that I was right there with him, that this was in the past. His eyes met mine, and he gave me a nod of appreciation, feigning a moment of happiness for my sake. I could see right through the smile that couldn't reach his eyes. He was still in so much pain from this memory, but this was my chance to discover what happened._

_The past Loki had a wide smile on his lips, clearly harboring so much joy. It was so familiar, yet so different. When he left me in the garden to speak with Odin, that was the memory he left me with, but when he returned, that memory seemed so distant. His ocean blue eyes were filled with hope as he opened his mouth to speak, "I wish to speak with you about Eva," he stated simply, knowing that Odin rarely fancied long, verbose spiels._

"_What of the girl?" Odin asked, his eyes scanning the way Loki fidgeted with his hands._

_Loki swallowed hard, "I come to you to ask for your blessing to ask for her hand in marriage, and I ask that before you give me an answer, you let me explain to you how prepared I am," he blurted out, clearly excited at the opportunity to speak to Odin about such a monumental moment. My breath hitched in my throat as I heart Loki describe the reasoning behind him being there. While Thor had explained what happened, nothing could've prepared me for hearing Loki speak so openly and seriously about marriage. Odin remained silent as Loki continued, "I spoke to everyone she's close to, and I've received permission from each of them. I spoke to Ephinea, Thor, her brother, and her father. They've all given me their blessing to ask her to be my wife. Aaldir has already begun sketching out a cottage for just Eva and I, so if it was a problem, we wouldn't even have to be in the palace. I talked with mother about it, and she had a ring forged specifically for this occasion. Now, all I need is your blessing, and I will ask nothing more from you for my entire life. Even if marrying Eva means I must forfeit any right I have to the throne of Asgard, I would do so gladly," Loki explained with determination clear in his eyes._

_My eyes widened, and tears filled them as I thought of how madly in love he became with the idea of becoming the King of Asgard after we had separated. Thor told me that Loki had become thirsty for power, and it was driving him mad. All of our lives, Loki talked about the peace he would spread throughout Asgard should he become the King, but we both knew that Thor was first if Odin allowed birth succession to matter. At the time, we were unaware that Odin had no real plans to allow Loki to sit on the throne of Asgard, since Loki was continuously groomed for the position of a potential future king. To see how quickly he would give up on that just to live a peaceful-albeit exciting-life with me was astonishing. It showed how truly romantic my love was when it came to me, even when he wasn't around me._

_I glanced over at present-day Loki, whose cheeks were wet with tears. His eyes peeled away from the scene before us to lock with mine, and I saw how distressed he was. The further into the memory we ventured, the worse it became for him. I pulled my hand from his, reaching up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, "oh, my love," I murmured, cradling his face in my hands. He leaned into my touch, a sad smile spreading across thin lips, "to ask you not to feel sorrow at this moment would be like asking the stars to cease their shining, but I ask that you remember that I'm here with you right now. I'm by your side, and nothing that happened in this moment will change that," I promised, making myself taller on the tips of my toes so that I could press my lips to his cheek._

"_And for that, I'm the luckiest man in the universe," he replied, his arms wrapping around my waist and pulling my body flush against his. My head rested against his chest, nuzzling into him right below his chin, which he-in turn-rested against the top of my head, but not before pressing a kiss into my hair. My right arm snaked around his waist while my left hand rested against his chest below my own chin._

_We both faced the scene once more as past-Loki continued to speak, "the preparations for any and all outcomes have been made, but I ask that you please consider my offer. Over the past thousand years, we've fallen in love with one another, and we've even spoken of running away to promise ourselves to each other," he said, referencing the countless times we spoke of running off to Asgard, Vanaheim, or even Alfheim, a place I frequented for its calm, blissful nature. Wherever Loki and I could be together, that was home. He continued, "Eva and I have lived as husband and wife for centuries upon centuries, but the only thing that would be different is that she would become my wife under Asgardian law. That would be the only change."_

"_Loki," Odin breathed out, and the tone in his voice made it abundantly clear to both past-Loki and myself that he was __not__ on our side. His eye was a mirror into his cynicism. Even though I knew the general direction their conversation would go in, a part of me didn't want to see the hope die in my lover's eyes. While it was shocking to see the complete change in him from when he left me to talk to his father and when he returned to push me away, it would be even more difficult to watch as that boyish optimism died away._

_Loki reached out in clear distress, and I knew this would only be the beginning of his torture. This was the beginning of the end, and I was getting the answers I so desperately wanted, but at what cost? This only hurt to know how desperate he was to be accepted and supported by his father. Loki scrambled to find words, "Father, please. I come to you as more than just one of the commoners; I come to you as your son, and I'm asking you to allow me to show my love freely to the woman I'm destined to love, the woman I __have__ loved for all my life," he stressed, his hands trembling once more, so he began fidgeting with them again. It was one of the many quirks I fell in love with. Whenever he got nervous, excited, angry, or overjoyed, his hands would tremble, and he would wring them, trying to fight back the abundance of emotion that crashed into him. I come to you, a man who is more than just your son, a man who is ready to be a husband, a man who is ready to be a __father__," he explained, causing my heart to stop completely and my breath to hitch in my throat._

_That word caused the tears to begin cascading down my cheeks. The hand that had once been pressed against Loki's chest flew up to cover my mouth to hold back the inevitable sob that would try to break past my lips. Loki and I talked about our future children several times. Most times, he shied away from speaking at length about it because the topic always brought up his troubles with his father. He was terrified that he wouldn't be the greatest father to our children, but I knew him better than that. My gaze turned up to meet Loki's to see that tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, "really?" I asked, my voice trembling as my body quaked in his arms._

_He nodded his head, biting his bottom lip to keep it from quivering. When he finally trusted his voice not to betray him, he spoke, "I was more than ready to start a family with you long before I asked my father's blessing. I knew that the only thing greater than spending my life with you would be to spend my life with you and our own children. I was prepared to start a family from the moment we promised ourselves to one another hundreds of years ago. I was terrified, yes, but I wanted that future with you, and when I spoke to Odin, I was more than ready to take that step," he explained, pressing a kiss to my forehead as I continued crying, "why does this upset you so deeply, my love?" he asked, his voice as light as a feather to keep from disturbing my heightened emotions._

_I shook my head, "I was ready, too," I whimpered, burying my face into his chest, letting a small cry escape my throat as he held me tightly to him. His hand rubbed small circles into my back as I felt the weight of the world crashing down around me. So much of my life would've been different if I had spoken first. So much would've changed had I forced him not to leave me in the garden until I found the courage to discuss the future. Lives wouldn't have been lost, hope wouldn't have died, and sorrow wouldn't have plagued my memory for that long._

"_You don't know her the way I do," Odin boomed, pulling my attention away from what could've been and refocused it back on what had transpired. All the while, present day Loki kept a tight grip on me, almost as if he was shielding me from what was to come._

"_No! You don't know her the way __I__ do!" past-Loki cried out, his voice breaking as the tears spilled from his eyes, cascading down his cheeks. He breathed hard, his chest rising and falling at an alarming rate. Loki was prone to what the Midgardians coined as panic attacks. It was something Tony suffered from after New York. While I could always sense Loki's distress, he always asked me to just hold him through it. He wanted to learn how to handle them, how to push through them without me getting into his head, so I allowed him to suffer through the agonizingly long attacks. All I could do was hold him close to me, reminding him that he was safe as long as we were together. I sensed his anxiety when confronting Odin, "I know her favorite color is blue. When we were younger, she used to tell me that it was because of the color of the sky and the oceans on Midgard, but less than 2 years later, she confessed that it was because she had a deep adoration for the color of my eyes," he stated, referring to one of our earliest romantic conversations._

"_I know that she spends her days in the forest, making friends with the wildlife, speaking and singing to the trees. I know that her favorite novel depends on her mood and often fluctuates between a handful of works from the friends we made on Midgard over the years. Lately, she has fallen back in love with 'Jane Eyre', which was written by one of the closest friends she made on Midgard in our time visiting, and before that, it was 'Romeo and Juliet', a Shakespearean play," he said, referencing two of the people we had both grown to know and love on a personal level. Charlotte and William both knew about our "agelessness" and were often intrigued by it. Both of them were partial to us, allowing us to read their works before they were released to the public. They were memories that were sacred to us. Loki continued, "I know that she fights her sleep, especially when she's with me, and she only stops once I've started to drift off. I know that she loves baking, and when she's upset, she bakes until her home is filled with cakes and pastries. She'll set pies out to cool on the windowsill, but she rarely notices that they've disappeared until later on in the night, realizing that they must've been taken by one of the many species of wildlife that inhabit the forest around her home."_

"_I know that when she's angry, her nose gets red, and it spreads to her cheeks like a wildfire. I know that when she's sad, she likes to look up at the stars and shed her tears under their light. I know that the freckles on her body match perfectly with certain constellations in the night sky; she has the Corona Borealis under her right shoulder blade, the Andromeda constellation on her lower back, the Gemini on her right hip, Lyra on her left leg, Virgo on the calf of her right leg, and Pisces below her heart. I know that she loves the rain, and she can sense it coming before the clouds even form in the sky. I know that when she sings, the wind stops blowing, and the world comes to a stand still just to listen to her beautiful voice," he remarked, a wonder in his eyes as he listed off every little idiosyncrasy I had. While so many of those things made me feel inadequate, he looked at them as the most fascinating, wondrous parts about me, "I know that life thrives around her wherever she goes. I know that when the first drop of rain falls to the ground, she finds any reason to go outside and dance through the forest. I know that she feels a connection to the world, that they are inexplicably linked. I know that she steals the covers throughout the night, and she's always embarrassed about it the following morning when she wakes up, rolled into the sheets. I know that when she yawns, she blushes at the same time."_

"_I know that when I'm around her, the colors in the world seem more brilliant-more vivid-than any I'd ever seen. I know that she wants at least three children, and when I ask her what she wants them to be, her answer is always: healthy. She knows what I mean, but that's her biggest concern is the health and well-being of our future children. I know that if we have a daughter, she loves the name Aurora because it means "dawn," and Eva likes the symbolism of the birth of a new day. I know that if we have a son, she loves the name Nova because it means "new," and it has connections to the stars that we fell in love beneath. I know that she would make the most amazing mother to our future children, and with her by my side, I think I could be a good father," he said, causing a pang of grief hit my heart. He had always spoken so openly about being afraid to start a family because of his perceived inability to be a good father, but to see him speak with a confidence like that made my heart swell with joy, but it also broke, "I know that she loves me without reason, fear, or doubt-without __end__-and I know that I want to be with her for the rest of my life. Even if you refuse me this offer, it won't change my feelings for her. Nothing will," he promised._

_Tears streamed freely down my cheeks, and I didn't hinder them. My love professed so much to me in that one monologue. His words were moving and tore a hole through my heart. This was the man I had missed for so long, the man I tried to get back, "you don't know the darkness that resides deep within her, a darkness that __you __could help bring out!" Odin barked out at him, becoming more and more impatient with Loki's insistence that we belonged together. All I wanted was to somehow step in and change the course of the conversation, to save the past-Loki from feeling the hurt and pain he was about to experience, to feel the inadequacy he was about to endure. He was pure, and Odin was mere moments away from tainting that._

_Loki shook his head, ready to defend me, "there has never been any hint of darkness within Eva, and I would be the first to know. Over the past millennia, I've explored the deepest recesses of her mind, and I've seen nothing but a blinding light, a light so pure and radiant that I can't bring myself to look upon it for too long. She makes me want to be better and better each day I'm with her!"_

"_Until the day she becomes what she was always meant to be!" Odin shouted, clearly having heard enough from the man who stood in front of him, a man he claimed was his son for so many years._

"_I don't understand what you mean!" Loki exclaimed, his voice piercing the silence that would've otherwise plagued the war room. Seeing Loki so ready to defend me was heartbreaking because he shouldn't have been put in that position. I didn't want to see him so hurt, so confused. He pointed at Odin, tears of frustration clinging to his cheeks as they rolled down his silky smooth skin, "you claim to know her, but you think her to be some abomination, a __monster__!"_

_Odin's face became beat red, and he reached out in front of him, grabbing the circular table at the center of the war room and tearing it off the floor before throwing it across the room. The pieces we had once used as a way to guide our ideas or war strategies went flying to each corner of the large room as Odin turned his focus back over to Loki, "because I know her better than anyone else could ever possibly know her! I know where she comes from, where she belongs, what she's capable of! You have no idea because you're blinded!" he yelled, closing the space between them. I moved, trying to step away from present-Loki to somehow protect past-Loki, but the arm that was wrapped around my waist was secure. When I looked up at my love, he shook his head, still looking at the scene before him with pain clouding his vision. Our eyes didn't meet, but I could see in them that he didn't want to let me go. Odin stood directly in front of Loki, who looked smaller than ever in that moment, "a girl who could pass as a princess, even without a prince, would be better suited for Thor, and I will not entertain these childish games any longer! Eva needs to be contained, and Thor is the best fit for that job. He could keep her controlled if need be, but __you__ only add more chaos. This conversation is over!" he boomed before turning on his heel and beginning to walk toward the door to exit the room._

_Loki stepped forward, continuing to provoke the argument even more. He didn't want to go down without a fight, and that made the scene even more tragic than I could've imagined, "this conversation isn't over until you tell me that all of these plans, all of this waiting hasn't been in vain! This isn't over until you give me your blessing to marry the love of my life!" he yelled after the Allfather, wiping his tears away as quickly as possible._

_Odin whipped around, clearly caught off guard by Loki's insistence on getting his way. That was one thing I'd always known about the Allfather: he didn't like to be questioned. When he set a new law in motion, it was best to bend, or you would be broken. Odin narrowed his eye at the broken man before him, "as your King and as your father, you will never receive my blessing to marry that girl. She is to be set aside and saved for your brother. From this moment on, I forbid you from continuing your relationship with her, and if you do, I will see to it that you are both thrown into Asgard's deepest dungeons. You would be sacrificing your life and freedom as well as her own. She belongs to you no longer," he declared, setting the new "law" into motion._

"_You can't take her away from me!" Loki screamed, falling to his knees in the middle of the room. His arms wrapped around his body as he hugged himself. My heart shattered as he wept in the middle of the floor._

"_I just did," Odin remarked before disappearing from the room._

_Loki wailed, his cries tearing through my very soul. I'd never heard such agonizing sounds coming from him. The only other time he experienced that much agony was in New York and in the vision Ezra planted in his mind. I broke free of the arms that held me and ran to the man within the memory, falling to my knees at his side, "she's all I have!" he screamed after his father, his body heaving and trembling with unrelenting despair, "I don't have anyone else!" he wailed, falling forward to catch himself on his hands. His breaths were ragged, frantic, and shallow, and his cries echoed through the room as I fell to my knees beside him, reaching out to touch him. Before I could run my fingers through his long, black locks, he disappeared._

In the blink of an eye, I found myself back in the forest with Loki, his arms wrapped tightly around me, almost as if he was afraid to let me go. He curled into me, forcing his body closer to mine like a scared child. Within me, a pain arose that was so great it could destroy galaxies. Seeing the love of my life crumble before my eyes had been a horrific sight, a sight that would plague my nightmares for the rest of my life. I wrapped my left arm around him while my right hand cradled his head against my chest. I was comfortable sitting in the deafening silence with him, allowing him to cry if he needed to do so. There had been countless times when he did so for me. This time, though, he didn't yearn for the silence, and he spoke, "after the confrontation with Odin, I struggled with what I should do. I didn't want you or your reputation to be tarnished because of me, and I couldn't live with myself if you were punished for our love," he explained, his voice trembling just as it did in the memory he shared with me.

I listened intently to his words, not wanting to interrupt his flow of thought. However, while he spoke, I ran my fingers through his wild, black locks, "I pushed you away, and that was the worst decision of my life. It was the hardest decision I had ever made, but it was the wrong one. When I left you in the garden, I began planning Odin's downfall as well as Thor's. I was hungry for the throne of Asgard. I wanted it to be mine and mine alone because if I was King, no one could tell me who I could or could not marry. I didn't think about how the unspeakable acts of treason I committed could potentially cause you to be disgusted by my mere presence. I didn't think of anything but the power I would have as King. Odin made me feel powerless that day in the war room, and I never wanted to feel that again," he confessed, opening his heart up to me for the first time in such a long time. He answered so many of the questions I never had the chance to ask him, but he knew, in his heart, that I needed them to be explained.

He shook his head in disbelief at his own train of thought, "another part of me still wanted to please the man I believed to be my father. I wanted to prove him wrong, prove to him that I was worthy of happiness, that I was worthy of _you_. I wanted him to see that I was worthy of the throne, and maybe, I wouldn't have had to cast Thor aside in order to take it. I loved my brother...I still do, but I was willing to do whatever I had to do in order to prove myself in the eyes of the Asgardian people, my father, and myself," he explained, turning his eyes up to meet mine, "I was ready to ask you to marry me that day, Eva. I had carried around the ring my mother had forged for years, waiting for the right moment. I used to sit up at night, thinking of the right words to say, how I would say them, what you would say to me. I'd think of all the different scenarios, too. That day in the garden, though, I was prepared to ask you to be mine for the rest of time. Looking back on it now, I wish I would've scooped you up in my arms and run. We would've run as far from home as we could, and we could've built our lives together like we've always dreamed."

"There's still time," I murmured, causing his eyes to widen. He pulled away from me, staring at me like I had three heads. He sat in disbelief at my words, ocean blue eyes scanning mine for any traces of dishonesty. He would find none. I reached down to my side, stroking my hand through the grass at the base of the tree as my eyes remained locked on his, "we could run away together and get married on Midgard like we used to talk about, or we could get married right here, under the tree we fell in love beneath," I relished in the idea, butterflies fluttering around my abdomen.

He cocked his eyebrow, the disbelief giving way to playfulness, "then what?"

"We could buy a little cottage in the south of France or Ireland, and we could build a life there," I answered, remembering the numerous conversations we had about potentially living in those two places in particular. Loki and I both loved the peaceful nature. We wanted to live intentionally, and we found that easiest in places that were less crowded. My heart flipped as I thought of the beauty we would create, "we could have children, and they would be free to run and play as much as they'd like. We wouldn't have to hide anymore. We would be free to love," I continued, my heart beating faster the longer our eyes were connected. I never stopped loving him, but it felt like I was falling in love with him for the first time all over again. The feeling was intense, magical, _right_.

"I don't think I'd be allowed on Midgard under any circumstances for the rest of time," he snickered to himself, trying to make light of a situation that plagued his past. His eyes still remained hopeful, "but we're free to love tonight, and that's good enough for right now," he added, a smile crossing over his lips. There was a hint of mischief in his eyes, but it wouldn't have been Loki without the mischief.

His mischief fed my own, and I could see my eyes darken in his own, the desire overcoming me. I had hungered for his touch for so long, his hands rediscovering every piece of my body that they had become acquainted with time and time again, just as mine had with his. We had spent so many nights together that when we were apart, I could still feel the warmth of his skin against my own. I knew every dip, every freckle, every scar, every inch, "I must leave you before the sun rises, but you are free for tonight. What is it you desire, my prince?" I asked the suggestive question, leaning forward and drinking in the sight of him.

He smirked, knowing the game he was playing. It was the one we played with each other more times than I could count. It started out playfully, but it got intense rather quickly, "you know _exactly_ what I want," he whispered, seeing the destination clearly. This was the place where we first celebrated our love. Beneath the tree where we fell in love, we gave ourselves to one another, gifting something so precious to the other. We had only ever known each other in such an intimate way, and that never changed. It was only fitting to rediscover each other in the same place we first discovered each other. His words, the way he said them, it was as if we had spent no time away from each other at all. He still knew how to make the knot in my abdomen tighten, how to build up the heat and desire in my very core

Knowing what to do, I grasped his shoulder and swung my leg over him so that I was straddling his hips. A surge of exhilaration tore through him, and I felt him quiver beneath me. Aware of the effect I had on him, I leaned forward, my breath cascading across his lips. I ran my lips along his strong jaw and felt him shiver beneath me. Everything-from the moment he left me until the moment he opened his heart back up to me-fell to the wayside, and it was as if nothing had changed between us. None of the heartache, fear, anger, or grief mattered in that moment together. I could feel the challenging grin overtake my lips, "_I want to hear you say it_," I growled, the heat of desire spreading through my veins and through every limb, culminating in my lower abdomen.

My lips trailed down to his neck, planting kisses the whole way. When I finally reached the spot that drove him wild with desire, I latched my lips onto it, feeling him writhe beneath me, a desperate moan escaping from his lips as he threw his head back against the tree. With my left hand still holding firmly to his shoulder, my right hand was lost within his black locks, tangling themselves in his wild hair. I left my mark on him, my teeth grazing the sensitive patch of skin I had made my own. I leaned into his ear, tucking the lobe between my teeth and biting down just hard enough to elicit a shaky breath from him. Satisfied with myself, I pulled away only enough to allow the warmth of my breath to dance along his neck and ear, "_tell me_," I insisted, my voice quieter than the sound of the cool night breeze.

He cracked under his urges and desires. I felt it as if it was the ground crumbling beneath my feet, "I want _you_!" he growled, his hand tangling in my hair and tugging at the roots to pull my mouth away from his ear. His eyes locked with mine, and they darkened. He was ravenous. He looked like a predator about to tackle its prey to the ground and tear through it. Without needing prompting, he always knew what I desired, and I knew what would satiate his hunger, what would fill him. There were nights when he was gentle and loving with me, but gentleness wasn't what I craved this time. He knew that.

I gripped the hair at the back of his head even harder, tugging it back like he did to mine. It exposed the length of his neck to me, trailing down to the V-neckline of his green tunic. He growled at the sudden movement, but a grin overcame his lips. He was well-aware of what was about to transpire, we both were. It had been so long since we'd known each other in such an intimate way, but this was exactly what I needed, one of the reasons why I came back to Asgard. I needed answers when it came to Loki, and this was part of it. I needed to have closure in case my task on Midgard claimed my life. I narrowed my eyes at him, ready to challenge him as I had so many times before, "if you want me..._take me_."

* * *

We laid in the grass facing one another. Loki's right arm was wrapped around my waist, holding me close to him, our bare bodies fitting together like the jagged edges of a puzzle. Our breathing was slowly steadying, evening itself out after such an intense portrayal of undying love. It began as an act filled with lust and desperation, but-just as it always did-it built into something sensual, delicate, gentle. Loki took his time with me, and I did the same with him. Neither of us could stop smiling at one another, and the butterflies continued as Loki looked at me like I was the only woman who ever existed, the only woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

He propped himself up on his left elbow, towering over me and continuing to drink in the sight of me just as I was doing to him. I felt euphoria coursing through my veins. Nothing else mattered at that moment except for the two of us. I had him back, and my universe was falling back into place. I could hold him, kiss him, show him all the love I had saved since the garden. A dull ache in my heart reminded me that there was still one missing piece, a missing piece that could've been reattached should things in Asgard be solved. If my love no longer saw me as an enemy and would no longer use my heart against me, there was a chance to bring back the person I'd been missing the most. _Her_.

His right hand left my waist to reach up and brush the stray strands of hair away from my face, gently tucking them behind my ear. His eyes were filled with amazement, and he finally built up the courage to disrupt the silence that had fallen between us, "I love you," he whispered, his warm breath cascading across my face.

Tears of joy and complete wholeness filled my eyes. It had been far too long since I'd heard those words from him. It was like the warmth of spring when winter finally ceased her brutal assault. The warmth made you forget about how cold it had once been, how the freezing air seemed to invade the very bones within you. His absence was my winter, and I was finally back in the spring, feeling the warmth of the sun upon my frostbitten skin. My heart filled to the brim, and I reached up, pushing his hair back to see the man I once knew, the man I was almost certain had died, giving way to the brutality of the man I saw in New York. I rested my hand against the back of his neck, guiding his lips down to mine and holding him against me with a kiss. I couldn't get enough of him. It only took one single taste of what I once had, and he claimed me once again. When we pulled away from the kiss, I searched his eyes and saw no signs of the man with his face from New York. This was my love, my light, my life. This was my Loki. Wanting to convey how deeply enthralled I was by him still, I used the same response we once used, "I love you _more_."

His eyes brightened, and the most contagiously joyous smile spread across those beautiful lips. That was how it was done. The silver-tongued God of Mischief with a quick wit was rendered completely speechless by my profession of love for him. While I had been open about my strong feelings of love for him that lived on past the supposed death of our romantic journey, I hadn't brought him back the way I knew the words would. It was my way of professing how willing and ready I was to overcome everything and fall back into what we once had. The look in his eyes told me that he was ready to do the same. Finally shaking off his disbelief, his face fell solemn once more as his fingers danced along my skin, "if I asked you now...what would your response be?" he asked, hinting at the proposal of marriage he had never been brave enough to speak of aside from his cryptic questions.

My heart felt like it jumped into my throat, stopping all air flow as the thought of being with him once more arose. I would be promised to the man I loved so endlessly, and the possibility of having that back-of having back _everything_ that I once loved and lost-was overwhelming. Still, I smirked up at him, "my response has never changed, and it never will. I've always told you that my answer depended on whether or not you were brave enough to ask me _outright_," I answered, cocking an eyebrow in a challenging way, knowing that he was a planner. This was the most unplanned and spontaneous thing I'd ever done, and I pulled him into it. There was no way he could've planned for it, so it was no use dreaming of him asking me to be his eternal love on that night.

He tilted his head, gazing up at the stars as if they would answer the following question for him. He was puzzled, the small crease between his eyebrows becoming more prominent, "none of what happened has changed that?" he asked, his eyes flickering back down to mine. He looked almost concerned for my sanity, like my love for him was somehow a treasonous act. If so, I'd rather be put to death than have to live a lie.

"Not at all," I answered, shaking my head and propping myself up onto my right elbow. Seeing that I was looking for dominance, Loki laid with his back against the emerald green grass, gazing up at me with skin that glistened under the light of the stars. The tips of my fingers danced along his chest, particularly over his heart, the place my head had been planted almost every single night for more than a thousand years. I would be rocked to sleep by the lullaby that his heart became, and he held me in the arms I'd come to know as my home. I smoothed his hair back, "I wish I could _make_ you understand why, Loki, but I cannot. I cannot explain why, after all that has happened, I still look at you and feel like it's the first time I'm seeing you; why, after all we've been through, each time our eyes meet, my love for you feels as fresh as the morning air. I cannot explain how, after all the times I've tasted the sugar-touch of your lips, each time we kiss it's as sweet as the air after nearly drowning."

As I spoke the words, Loki's eyes began to fill with tears, but the smile on his face told me that he was in no sort of distress or grief. He felt joy in that moment. A man who had gone without it for far too long was receiving it once more. I caressed his cheek, features that could cut through diamond laid under such supple skin, "the man who threatened the very essence of life itself, the man who nearly killed me, the man who hurt me in ways I never thought I could hurt...that man wasn't you, Loki. That man was the person Thanos turned you into, and in doing so, he made himself my greatest enemy," I stated, the heat rising in me once more. I pushed it aside, not wanting to see the fear in his eyes as I had in the dungeons when I spoke of Thanos. The mere mention of his name caused his eyes to widen, so I moved along as quickly as I could, not wanting the feeling of fear to linger within him, "none of what happened has made me love you less. I've loved you every moment of my life, even when it would've been easier to stop loving you, even when it would've been less painful to tear you out of my life. It's why I couldn't kill you in New York. You are my person, and I would choose you forever," I reminded him of a fact that we had always known to be true.

He shook his head, guilt tearing through him. His bottom lip quivered as he tried to hold in the emotions I so desperately wanted him to show. As I continued to stroke his cheek, the tears fell, cascading down the side of his face and falling into the mess of wild black hair that had become acquainted with the grass, "I'm broken," he confessed, almost as if he thought he could push me away with that, as if we hadn't been through more than enough to trust that we would be by each other's side for the rest of eternity, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. He said it as if I would change my mind, like every other trial paled in comparison to this one. He didn't seem to understand that a happy life was all I'd ever yearned for, all I ever wanted, and it couldn't be a happy life without him in it.

His words upset me, breathing life back into the smoldering coals within my healing heart, bringing about a rebirth of the intense fire that had lived within me for so long. Red and white flames licked at the walls of my heart, feeding the passion within me, a passion I thought had died when I forfeited my happiness during the event I referred to as "the great calamity." I laid waste to my entire life, tearing apart all I'd ever held dear and saying my sorrowful farewell to every ounce of love I'd never feel again, "don't you _ever_ say that about yourself! I never want to hear those words from you for the rest of my life! You aren't broken. You might be a little bruised, a little bent, but you've never been broken, Loki," I stressed to him, his words feeling like a dagger through my heart, and it felt like my very soul began to bleed out beneath me in the grass as I thought of how tragic his words were, "you're the man I love with all my heart and soul, the man I want to marry someday, the man I trust with my life...the man I want to have a family with. Children with your hair and my eyes," I reminded him of the family we always dreamed of as my eyes filled with wistful tears.

"Nova or Aurora," he smiled, saying the names like a fond memory, a beautiful one that he grasped tightly in the cold nights we spent away from one another.

My breath hitched in my throat as I thought of the names we'd come up with as we gazed up at the stars one night. My hair was splayed out against his chest and abdomen, and we laid in the grassy meadow that sat a short walk away from the tree. We stared up at the stars together, his fingers tangling themselves into my curls, and we listed off names that we loved. All of them were names I seldom imagined lately, the thought of them only bringing me pain. At the top of the list was Nova and..._Aurora_. My heart nearly suffocated me, "I'd want more than two," I whispered before pressing a kiss to his delicate lips.

He smiled up at me, "I remember that, and so would I," he murmured, his hand coming to rest against my lower abdomen, mindful of the wound I had bound up. The movement was one he made often after we were finished our intimate acts of love, almost as if he had-for centuries-been trying to will a child into existence. This time, though, he was making his intentions as clear as the night sky.

"Don't break my heart, Loki," I warned him, knowing how sensitive I was to the concept of children, of starting a family with him. They would be the embodiment of our love.

His eyes darkened as he became serious, understanding just how sensitive I was to the topic, "I want to have a baby with you, Eva. I want children together, and if I could change history, we would've started our family centuries ago instead of tiptoeing around the subject of children, which was largely because of how insecure I was about myself and my ability to be good at..._anything_, especially being a father to the children we would have," he confessed, being more transparent with me about it than he ever had before. He was finally admitting to what I'd always known. He was quiet on that matter because he was afraid, "while I still think I'm too tainted and broken to be a father, I know that taking the journey with you will only make me a better man just as it always has. It's what's missing, and I don't want to wait any longer, but the choice is not solely up to me, it's up to you as well."

"And what if we _had_ begun our family sooner?" I asked in an attempt to get him to realize that prior to the events of his fall, we were _lucky_ to have not had several children as we both dreamed of. We were lucky. Lucky. Lucky. _He_ was lucky. The pain my love felt at the hands of Thanos, while great and detrimental, paled in comparison to the agony that I experienced when I was forced to abandon the last shred of love, happiness, and joy. I would've taken a thousand years of torture at the hands of Thanos when I thought of what happened. I _wanted_ my mind to be ripped away from me if it meant that I didn't lose all that I did. Loki's fall tore my heart and soul apart, but his return and the subsequent repercussions of that tore me apart even more than I thought possible. The day after he returned was the day I travelled to Midgard as two and returned as one. It was the day Heimdall cried. It was the day I wished with every ounce of my being that Loki had simply killed me on Midgard. _Loki_ was the lucky one.

As he turned my question over and over again in his mind, I continued speaking, "what would've happened if the events transpired the same way they did in the garden? What would've happened if the man who wanted to hurt me so intimately knew that we had a child together-a child that would mean more to me than all the lives in the universe combined? Tell me he wouldn't have hurt her...or him," I pressed, trying to get him to realize the crushing reality of our past. His dream to go back and start a family sooner was a sweet sentiment but an impossible reality. Most of our past was a dream to look at, to revel at the beauty of it, but dreams had to end, and we had to be awake to what was in front of us. I had the man of my dreams before me, so every moment in our past had led us up to this single moment in time. I was grateful for it. I was the lucky one.

In Loki's silence, I saw that he was coming to the realization that should we have split apart in the same soul-crushing way, he would've done the unthinkable. He had nearly killed me, and it wasn't until I could feel the cold caress of Death that he came around. Even then, I had to fight to survive. If it wasn't for Tony, my final words to him on that day would've been my final words to him. Period. His eyes disconnected from mine, and he turned his gaze away in shame. That wasn't the point of my question, though. I didn't mean to make him feel shame over his actions, but I wanted him to understand that the timing wasn't right for those reasons. I didn't want him to dwell on what we didn't have but see what we _could_ have moving forward. I grasped his chin and turned his head until our eyes connected once more, "maybe you would've stayed by my side every moment, and you would've disregarded Odin's cruelty. Maybe we would've run away together to be married on Midgard, but that's not how it worked out for us, and there's no going back to change it."

"I have never turned to anyone for the elixir," I confessed, causing his eyes to ignite and burn like the light of a thousand stars. The elixir was one made of special herbs and fruits around Asgard as well as water from the Neverending Spring. Asgardian sorcerers brewed the elixir to put a halt to unintended pregnancy. I had never inquired about the elixir as I'd always been willing to mother Loki's children. That was what solidified our love for him in that moment. I saw the change in his eyes, the bright passion burning behind irises of pure and radiant crystal blue. He was overjoyed, and it made him realize that my intentions, my love for him, my devotion to him had never changed, "we've never taken precautions, so maybe fate has made us wait this long for a reason. Maybe the universe put our love to the test to see if we were truly ready for this. Maybe this is the beginning," I murmured, resting my hand atop his on my abdomen.

Our eyes danced with joy and passion, like two flames taunting each other. They knew they could do no harm to the other. They were made of fire, and fire didn't live in fear of being burned. It was that moment that we both came to the realization that we couldn't move on without the other, that the stars had aligned and allowed us the second chance we so desperately needed, "if you were to ask me to have a baby with you right now, my answer is clear in the love we created tonight. My plans with you never changed, not even for a moment. Even after you broke my heart, you could've come running back to me and asked for my hand, and I would've said 'yes' to you," I continued, my voice strong and sure. I could feel the familiar stir within me, one I had felt before, one that began the most exhilarating journey of my life. It was a journey that ended in pain and sorrow, but it was a journey nonetheless. Excitement filled me as I felt the whisper of life itself against my skin. I knew this feeling. She was speaking to me.

_You are ready._

Her voice was gentle, loving, and more gratifying than the sweets from the shop in the center of the market that Loki and I used to frequent at least once each week. Usually, when I focused on the connection I had to the planet below me, I could feel each of their life energies. However, this voice was unfamiliar to me. It wasn't the voice of Asgard, but it was the disembodied voice of the essence of life. We were connected, joined together as one. Her voice was a melody my heart knew the words to. My heart, without _her_, had only known the melancholy melody of the most grief-stricken song to have ever been upon my lips. Now, the flowers in my heart began to bloom once more, spring taking over as the cardinal season. With her words digging deep within me, I knew that she was right.

_I was ready_.

* * *

Throughout the night, Loki and I spoke with one another, basking in each others presence. He spoke briefly about his time with Thanos, but his eyes filled with fear when they witnessed the anger in mine. He was thorough in his questions, asking about what I had done in the time without him and inquiring about the Midgardians. I told him everything-_almost_ everything. We spoke of Hjalmar, and he shed tears for a lost friend-a _brother_-when I told him about my brother's final battle. He asked about Tony, still feeling a sense of urgent protectiveness over him. Loki had made a similar promise to Howard and Maria to keep Tony safe, and he was certain that should we meet them in whatever life came after this, they would have his head for what he put Tony through.

He knew better, though.

When I explained the situation with Tony, Loki was filled with restlessness. He looked as if he wanted to go down to Earth to help fix the mess because he couldn't fix the ones in the past. His guilt was eating away at him, and it hurt to see that. As soon as the time was right, I'd take Loki to Midgard with me, and he could have his chance to apologize to the faces of those he victimized. In the meantime, while it was clear that he didn't want me to leave the "safety" of Asgard, he understood my protective instincts over Tony. I saw Tony as one of my own. I nurtured him when he was an infant. I held him when he cried, played with him, laughed with him, cared for him, _loved_ him. He grew up to be a man capable of so much more than he dreamed, but I couldn't see him as a man. I couldn't see him as Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. I still saw him as the little boy with big brown eyes and a heart of gold that put Asgard to shame. Tony was still a precious gem in my eyes, and Loki saw that as clear as day in the way I spoke about him. We both had deep connections to Tony, but I never managed to distance myself enough from him.

Upon the realization that I wouldn't give up on my trip to Midgard, all Loki asked of me was to return home to him. He had accepted long ago that my destiny was to help those in need, to protect those that I loved most, to be their shield. He knew that helping Tony was my priority, and he didn't try to talk me out of it. He respected the love I harbored for the Midgardians. It was a love we both shared at one point, and it was a love he would rebuild. All he wanted was to make sure I knew that he would be waiting for me when I returned. He just wanted to give me another reason to return, not knowing that he'd never left that ever-growing list of reasons I had to live another day.

As the sky began to brighten ever so slowly in the early hours of the morning, I knew that the time for me to leave was approaching, and I finally realized how lucky I was. I had been given the chance of a lifetime. I lived long enough to have this moment with Loki. Everything had fallen into place so perfectly. If anything had happened any differently, I never would've had such precious time with my love. If I hadn't checked on Tony that night to find out he was in trouble, if I hadn't stumbled across the shack and met Harley, if I hadn't allowed myself to grow attached to the little boy with starlight in his eyes, if I hadn't agreed to help Tony in his mission to stop the Mandarin, if I hadn't asked Kaia what she was afraid of, if I hadn't nearly died none of this would've happened. I was given the opportunity to spend one last night with the love of my life, my soulmate, my happily ever after, my prince, the light of my life, my Loki. It was a gift, and our time together was coming to an end.

With tears of a bittersweet ending rising to my eyes, I gazed over at him with nothing but fond memories flooding my mind. It felt like our love was back to the way it once was. It was fresh yet familiar. I was the luckiest woman in all the universe because I had just a single night holding my whole world in my arms, but I couldn't help the constant barrage of scenarios that could play out once I left. As soon as the first tear fell, his eyebrows furrowed, "what's wrong, my love?"

I cleared my throat, trying to keep myself from breaking down. The mere thought that this could potentially be my final night with the man I loved, that it could so easily go back to how it was before, it made me fall into the pit of despair I had become acquainted with. I didn't want to emptiness there anymore. My life without him wasn't always painful, it was that the space he took up by my side was empty, and the space in my heart that he filled with love was a hole. In those moments of missing him so greatly, of missing what we could've been, what I missed _because_ of him, I had often entertained my darker fantasies. I would think of throwing myself in front of my enemy's sword, of plunging one of the daggers he had gifted me straight into my heart, of throwing myself from the Bifrost. I entertained those ideas until I was filled with fear that I would actually give into one of them. Living without him made me stronger, but when I tried to look at my future without him, it tore me down to nothing, so much so that the most appealing option was to make it so that I had no future to experience. Would I tell him that? Never. He didn't deserve the pain of knowing what his absence had done to me. He blamed himself enough, and I wouldn't add to it, "I just...I've missed you so much, and what if I'm never this happy again? What if things go back to the way they were before?" I asked, voicing my greatest fear.

He didn't skip a single beat, "they won't," he answered with a sense of assuredness.

"But you don't know that," I argued, standing up from the grass. After making love to each other for a second time that night, we had redressed ourselves. My gown, much like his shirt, was still slightly disheveled from being hurriedly pulled from my body and tossed to the side.

Just as I moved to stand up, he was right behind me, pushing himself up from the ground, ready to argue against my pessimism, "I do know that!" he insisted, his voice stronger than it was before. Loki and I had experienced our fair share of arguments during our time together, but it always ended with those three little words and a kiss. We never retired to bed or away from one another until the argument was resolved and any hostility had been put to rest. Loki's eyes burned with a fiery passion, and I saw how serious he was in his words, how unmovable his love always had been. There was a part he wasn't letting me see, a part that he wasn't telling me, but I knew that he told me no lies in that moment, "I was the person who put the strain on our relationship, the one who broke your heart, and-in turn-broke my own. I know what I did to you, and I hate myself for that. I can't excuse any of that, and I can't take it back no matter how badly I want to. All I know is that not a single moment passed where I didn't think of you," he confessed, tears of frustration and despair filling his eyes. I knew that I caused some of that despair by questioning what the future held.

"Thanos tried to pull you out, tear you away from me. He wanted to drown me, and you were my air. Thinking about you hurt me so deeply because I knew the last memories I left you with were painful ones. I tried _not _to think of you, but every single time I closed my eyes, you were right there like an ethereal dream within a chaotic, inescapable nightmare. I loved you even when every ounce of love was ripped away from me and replaced with a burning hatred. I felt your warm embrace from galaxies away even in the heat of my torture. I know what life was like without you, what my future looked like without you, and I realized that death would be more comforting than a future-a _life_-without you," he explained, causing my tears to flow even faster. I didn't want to think that he had been just as lost without me as I was without him, "you're my princess, my queen, my love, my light, my life, my most exquisite dream. You are the very best part of me, Eva, and I don't want this to go away ever again. Seeing you-being with you once more-has been like feeling the sun on my skin after a long night. You are _everything_ to me, and I will fight until my last breath to keep this alive because I love you..._endlessly_, without reason, without a care for time or circumstance. I love you because I love you, and I'd sooner forfeit my own life than live another day without the warmth of our love shining into the darkest corners of my heart."

His words caused my heart to swell with joy, but I couldn't shake the fear in my heart. There were so many uncertainties in my life at that moment, and Loki was trying to put one of them to bed. I knew that he told me no lies. He was genuine. He wouldn't leave me again, but that didn't mean we wouldn't be alone. The possibility that I would leave him was still far too great, but I couldn't explain to him the unbalanced scales within me. I felt more powerful than ever before, but I also felt weaker than ever. I was afraid of dying for the first time in such a long time, but I couldn't express those fears to him, not when I knew he feared the same fate for me.

As I cried, Loki's strong, slender arms wrapped around my body, and he pulled me flush against his own. He held me against him, inhaling with my exhale as our bodies accommodated one another. One of the purest, most beautiful things about Loki was that he never tried to stop my tears. It broke his heart to see me cry, just as it broke mine when I witnessed his tears, but he never interfered with my sorrow. Instead, he held me until the last tear fell, and he would sit with me in the aftermath, losing his fingers in my hair, whispering sweet nothings to me, and pressing the most delicate kisses against my skin. He never left me even when the darkness scared him as much as it scared me. Instead, we faced it together.

When the tears finally subsided, with one hand under my chin, he tilted my head up until our eyes met-the ocean meeting the land. The pads of his fingers wiped away the wetness on my cheeks, and he leaned his forehead against mine, our noses brushing together ever so lightly, "do you remember that one night in Venice when we took the gondola ride in the middle of the night?" he asked, bringing up a memory that had always made us laugh looking back on it. A chuckle escaped my lips, but he continued, "we asked the gondolier to sing, and when you started to sing with him, he was so shocked at your voice that he went to step back and fell off the gondola," he reminded me, refreshing such a joyous memory. Once the ride had finished, the gondolier had asked me to sing to him, and after the incident I'd caused, I couldn't deny him such a simple request.

As the laughter overcame me, Loki finally stepped away from me, releasing my body from his warm embrace, but I still felt the warmth of that memory in my soul. His eyes scanned me up and down, drinking me in once more, and a feeling of such serenity fell over us both. Our eyes connected, and I saw something I'd only seen in him a handful of times in the past, times when I thought that it would be _that_ moment in which he was finally brave enough. His eyes were just as playful as they always had been in the past, but this time, they were also filled with a romantic intensity, "in 1845, we visited Charlotte, do you remember that?" he asked, referring to one of the many times we had visited a woman I considered to be one of my closest friends in all my life.

I nodded my head, "it was the time you let Anne and Emily braid your hair in the parlor," I reminisced about Charlotte's two sisters with a fondness. They were all so beautifully spoken, creating some of the most beautiful works I'd ever had the privilege of reading, and they were gone before their time. That day in particular, though, Anne and Emily had braided Loki's hair in the parlor, laughing and giggling with one another the entire time until they presented him to Charlotte and myself. He was never annoyed with any of them, always wanting to make the three women smile, especially because he knew that my happiness was dependent on theirs.

He nodded his head, a smile forming on his lips, "do you remember when I asked to speak with Charlotte in private?" he asked, cocking his head to the side as his eyes danced with a magic of their own.

"So that you two could plan my inevitable demise," I joked, smiling as I remembered the connection we all shared. I knew that he missed her just as dearly as I had. All of us had been born of the same dying star, so when the universe lost her, we all felt it.

He chuckled at my lightheartedness, and he looked down at his feet, his cheeks flushing with color as he remembered their conversation, "it was so that I could ask her to put something within the novel that could be used for this _very _moment, words that I spoke and she scrawled," he confessed, his words causing my heart to stop beating altogether. It felt like his words knocked the wind from my lungs, and I was left hopelessly speechless, "I knew that it would be the part of the novel that would move you and your tragic heart that I've loved since the beginning of time, and I wanted my words to live within that. For years, you've read them to me over and over again, and now, I'll finally tell them to you as they were meant to be conveyed, but this time...I hope for a more pleasant outcome."

Loki had always known my favorite part of that novel, the part in which Jane realized her worth and denied Rochester his proposal. His words had been so eloquent and beautiful, but she refused to marry him, knowing that she would be nothing more than his mistress. Before I could speak, he continued, quoting my favorite part of the novel, the part me and my tragic heart had a connection to, "I have for the first time found what I can truly love-I have found you. You are my sympathy-my better self-my good angel-I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wrap my existence about you-and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one," he quoted the part of the novel that always made me cry, without fail. That time was no different, but the reason for my tears was foreign in regards to those words. They had a new meaning.

He reached down between us in the grass and plucked a blade of it up, holding it at eye level as he scanned it just as he had done to me only a moment prior. I couldn't help but wonder what he was doing. He knew my connection to the world, and he never defaced her unless he found it necessary. She gave just as freely to him as she did to me, and we always gave back to her. I furrowed my eyebrows as I watched his fingers work the piece of grass into a circle, "June 14th, 1945, you danced with Howard Stark, and he asked you to marry him. He promised to buy you the biggest, most beautiful ring in all of New York. He promised you the biggest wedding money could buy, and he promised you the most beautiful dress that he'd have custom made for you, but you turned him down. Do you remember what you said to him?"

_I have no need for a custom made dress or an extravagant wedding. I have no need for such a ring, either. All I've ever needed in my life...is love, and I found that in Loki, in the man I plan to spend the rest of my life with...He could ask for my hand with a blade of grass tied around my finger, and I would say "yes" to him in a heartbeat._

I nodded my head, clasping my hand over my mouth, unable to speak as the tears flowed freely. I knew what was happening. I knew what was about to happen. My life would change forever, but I was ready for it. Seeing that I couldn't speak, he chuckled to himself, glancing down at the ring made of grass in his hands. I watched as it began to glow with a golden hue surrounding it as he imbued it with his magic. When his gaze finally met mine once more, I saw the tears in his eyes. He looked so happy-happier than any other moment we shared together, but he also looked so nervous all at the same time. I stepped closer to him, reaching up to cradle his face in my hands. I pressed a firm kiss to his lips, lingering there as I basked in the beauty of that moment.

After pulling away from him, he cleared his throat, kneeling down to the ground on one knee, causing the tears to fall faster than before, clouding my vision of him as I struggled to steady my breathing. "I have had the privilege of getting to love you since the beginning of time. Now, I'm asking you to allow me the honor of loving you until time ceases to exist. You are the loveliest, gentlest, most powerful woman I've ever known. I want to wake up every morning to the sweet sight of you, your hair a mess and your body tangled in the sheets. I want to fall asleep with my final words being words of love to you, falling asleep with your body against my own. I want my last view in this life to be of your eyes. My love for you spans to the edge of the universe and back again. You're my favorite part of every day," he murmured, tears falling down his cheeks as I reached down between us to wipe them away, "you told me once at the very beginning of this relationship that being together was a bad idea, but if that's true, then this is the best bad idea I've ever made. You told me that you wouldn't agree to be my wife until I was brave enough to ask you. Well, I'm brave enough now, and I'm choosing you."

It was real. This wasn't just a lead-up to him backing out suddenly. This was happening, "Loki," I breathed out, unable to form a coherent thought. My whole future was right in front of me, and I already knew my answer to his unspoken question.

He drew a deep breath, calming himself before uttering the words I had waited so very long to hear from him, "Eva, daughter of Aaldir, the light and love of my life," he paused, our eyes connecting with each others, dancing together in the most beautiful, vulnerable moment we'd ever had with one another. He held up the ring made from the blade of grass, realizing that this was the beginning of our forever and always, "will you marry me?"

_He could ask for my hand with a blade of grass tied around my finger, and I would say "yes" to him in a heartbeat._


	21. Godsbane

The ride from the palace stables back to the cottage felt longer than usual. I should've known that leaving Loki was going to be one of the hardest moments of my life, and he made it no easier by asking for my hand before I had to walk him back to the dungeons. Even though the grief and sorrow licked at the corners of my heart, the joy from our final moments in the forest refused to leave me, which was probably for the best. Our future together would prove to be one of the driving forces in my fight to survive my encounter with the Mandarin. The sun hadn't even peeked over the horizon when I reached the cottage and entered to find the home impossibly quiet, but it felt like it had been an entire day since I'd left Loki in the dungeons. Time without him moved slower than usual, but once I was finished on Midgard, my plan was to return to him and fight for his release.

As I sat on the edge of my bed, watching over the two sleeping children, requiring one last moment of peace before heading off into what could be my last fight. The only other peace I could've given myself would've been robbing _her_ of the peace I sacrificed everything to provide her with. Gazing down at the children, my thoughts racing through my mind, I didn't even hear my father enter the room behind me until he spoke, "you know what would happen if someone discovered them here, right?" he asked, trying to get me to think of the weight of such a drastic decision.

"They'd try to take them away from me, and I'd slaughter whoever it was," I promised, feeling an otherworldly protectiveness over the children in my care. I turned my attention back to my father, watching as his eyes filled with fear that lasted for only a moment. In the reflection of his dark eyes I saw the color of a bleeding rose in my eyes. Trying to brush it off as just a coincidence, I continued, "I needed to take them with me. The things they've been through...they're _horrific_. A life here, even if they aren't accepted, is a far better life than the one they were living on Midgard. This is my way of trying to make up for my mistakes. Once upon a time, I left as two and returned as one. Now, I left as one and returned as three. I had no choice but to make up for the one I failed," I confessed, my voice low as I remembered the greatest failure of my life.

My father shook his head, "you didn't fail her," he reminded me, becoming just as upset with me for claiming that I failed her as I became with Loki when he referred to himself as a monster.

"Then why isn't she here with me?!" I hissed, my voice still quiet as to not wake up Harley and Kaia, but that didn't mean that I wasn't able to express my anger and frustration, "if I didn't fail her, she'd still be here, but she's _not_! I cast her away, ruined my own future, tore apart my own heart. I _failed _her! Loving her was my greatest weakness, and leaving her...was my greatest failure," I repeated the words I knew like the back of my hand, causing my father's eyes to widen in disbelief. He was unaware of my visions, of the times I had seen Death, of the words I heard her whisper about me. He was unaware that so many of my words mirrored hers, that our stories were so closely linked. He didn't know the pit of madness that I was falling into the more I learned about myself, about my true parentage.

"You were faced with the most difficult decision of your life, and you made the right one. You put her needs over your own. You sacrificed for her, bled for her, nearly _died_ for her. You cannot tell me that you failed her after all you did to protect her," he growled, his voice low and stern. I heard my father speak that way only a handful of times, and it was always to get people to listen. In that moment, he needed my unwavering attention, and the sound of his voice commanded it, "I will not hear your bitter words about yourself because they are misplaced. Do you understand this?"

I nodded my head, knowing how badly it hurt him. I wasn't the only one who lost _her_. He felt her absence just as deeply, and it tore him apart, too. He never wanted to hear my words of self-loathe because they were words he knew he would be forced to silence time and time again, so I tried to silence them before they escaped my lips. He had given me a lifetime of love, and I knew that I was disappointing him for not carrying on by loving myself just as endlessly as he did, "I'm sorry, father," I apologized, reaching out to grasp his calloused hand in my own.

As he glanced down, he saw the blade of grass that Loki had turned into a ring that seemed to be as strong as a chain of steel and as stunning as the sunset on Midgard, "it's about time," he smiled, his deep brown eyes catching mine. The joy in them was unfathomable. Loki had always been like a son to my father, and he never hesitated in making him feel like part of our family. Hjalmar would've been just as elated to hear of our engagement, treating Loki like the brother he never had but also treating him like my beloved, "he came to me so long ago and asked to speak with me in private. It was late at night, and you were already asleep for the night. We walked out to the stables, and I knew that you were going to be the topic of conversation before he even opened his mouth. He told me how deeply in love with you he was, that you were his eternal love, that if given the choice, he'd rather live his days as a mortal with you by his side than thousands of years as a God without you. He showed me the ring his mother had forged for the occasion, and he asked if I would give him my blessing because he knew that you were my pride and joy, the little love of my life, my _everything_," he reminisced, tears brimming his eyes that I knew wouldn't fall.

"I told him that he needed to carry on the love I tried to build your life upon. I told him that he needed to protect you the way I always tried to, and he told me that he'd never have to do such a thing because I had taught you how to protect _yourself_. He assured me that you would never need him for protection or guidance because you knew how to be your own guiding light, but he also let me know that if you ever lost your way, if your life was ever in jeopardy, you were his number one priority. That was the moment I saw just how taken he was by you. The way he spoke of you was the way _I_ spoke of you, and I knew that he would treat you like his queen even after I parted from this world and could no longer treat you like my little princess," he continued, clearly thinking of a time long before, a time what he smiled fondly at, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle ever so slightly. Tears gathered at the corners of those dark eyes, "and then I was left to wait, not knowing when you would walk out of the house my little girl and return a woman. I just never expected it to be today."

I stood up from the bed, feeling the weight of his words on my shoulders. My father and I had a special connection, and it only strengthened after we lost Hjalmar. We had no choice but to fall together because if we didn't, we'd both fall apart. He had seen me through every downfall, every tear, every moment I had struggled. My father was my hero, my rock, my strong foundation that I built my life upon. I buried my face into his chest as he held me close to him, "I'm always going to be your little girl, and you're always going to be my father. I don't care where I came from, you're where I ended up. You're my father, and I'll always need you just as much as I did when I was a child. No matter where I go, who I love, or what I do, you are always needed in my life. There will never come a day when I'm ready to lose you, but when that day comes and I live past it, know that you were the one who gave me the strength to live without you," I insisted before lifting my head from his chest and finding his proud eyes, "you taught me so much, including how to love children who aren't my own as if they _were_ my own. I will treat Harley and Kaia just as you treated Hjalmar and I. From this moment on, they are my children, and they will live under my care. I ask that you treat them as if I birthed them myself because they will be treated no differently by me."

"You have my word that I will protect them with my life. They're precious children, and they've already acquired a piece of my heart in the short time I've known them," he mused, gazing down at the little humans occupying my bed. My gaze followed his and landed on their calm faces. Their expressions showed no signs of worry, fear, or pain; they were peaceful. He continued, "I just...I want you to understand that, no matter what I think, they don't belong here," he reminded me, not wanting me to ignore the laws of our land. I was well aware of Asgardian law, but I was also well aware of the lengths I would go to in order to keep my loved ones safe. I'd gladly break every law in the book if it meant that Harley and Kaia were protected.

"Neither do I, but you took me in once," I stated, not wanting him to forget that he went through a similar, trying situation at one point in his life. I knew that I didn't belong in Asgard if my visions were an indication of the truth, but he still took me in and loved me despite what my "destiny" was. Seeing the brightening sky out the window, I pulled away from his warm embrace and searched his eyes, "I must return to Midgard before the sun rises. Should anything happen to me, love them as your own just as you've done for me all my life. Cherish them and keep them safe and warm. Raise them to never lose their kindness, their goodness, their purity. If I cannot be here to love them, show them enough love for the both of us because they deserve nothing less," I urged him, gazing down at the sleeping children before remembering the one thing I'd left unspoken between Loki and myself, "if my destiny is to meet Death on Midgard...tell Loki; he deserves to know..._everything_."

Aaldir nodded, "promise me once more that you'll return home," he urged, a stray tear freeing itself.

"I give you my word that I will try my very best to make it home," I promised once more to him just as I had before I left the first time. I reached between us and wiped the stray tear from his cheek, holding back my own. If the moment we found ourselves in was potentially the final one we would have together, I didn't want to leave him with his last memory of me being a tragic one. I wanted him to remember me as I lived, and my life wasn't filled with tears, "I love you, father," I whispered, bowing my head to him out of respect.

He grasped my right shoulder with his right hand and pressed his forehead against my own, wiping away every ounce of fear I had for that one moment we had together. I was a child again. I wasn't a warrior or an abomination. I wasn't a songbird or a freak. I wasn't a woman...I was a girl. I was a girl in the strong presence of her father, and I felt protected, "I love _you_, little wolf."

* * *

***Thor's POV***

After the sun had risen in the sky high enough for me to know that my father was awake and in the war room where he had been spending most of his days and nights, I found my way through the halls. I passed by many of my friends with no more than a simple greeting, my only mission to take my worries up with my father in regards to Eva. She had been away from Asgard for too long, and he was partially to blame for her sudden disappearance. She felt like she wasn't needed, like she wasn't appreciated, and I saw it more and more when I witnessed their interactions with one another. Pushing the door open to the war room, I saw him staring down at the large table at the center of the golden room, furnished with nothing but tall columns of gold encrusted marble. The floor and ceiling were covered with artwork of the battles that Asgard had waged and won, but we never boasted about out defeats.

"Father, I come to speak with you of Eva," I spoke, my voice echoing throughout the room. Her name sounded wrong upon my lips, almost as if I shouldn't have been speaking her name in such a place as this. It was different when I spoke her name in the forest, for the forest knew her well enough to speak her name back to me.

He shook his head, his back still facing me, "I have no time to entertain your feelings for the girl right now, my son. It can wait," he stressed, clearly planning for each different scenario in the upcoming battle we were sure to have with Cul and his followers, the one Ezra warned us about.

Still, the battle would be short-lived without Eva. She was a powerful warrior, able to spread destruction with the same ease that she was able to spread light and love. She was talented, deadly, the calm before the storm, and the storm _itself_. If Asgard was to win the war against the darkness, we needed the light on our side, and that was Eva. We had to ensure that she returned to Asgard in one piece, that upon her return, she was never pushed away again. Without her, the morale throughout Asgard had diminished significantly, and it was clear to see the correlation between her presence and the overall health of the world around us, "it has waited long enough!" I shouted, stepping up to the table to face my father as a man. He had-for my entire life-treated Eva like a piece of this intricate puzzle. He minimized her importance, and I had finally reached my breaking point.

My father kept his composure even after I raised my voice at him. His one good eye still hadn't left the table, and he continued to move pieces around the table as he spoke to me, "Eva decided to run off when Asgard needed her the most because she wanted to tend to the Midgardians once again. She has chosen to abandon us, so Asgard will abandon her," he dictated, almost as if he were speaking of the weather.

"After all she's done for you? For the throne? For the people of Asgard?!" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing as the disbelief washed over me. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. She had bled for the throne, and she had sacrificed for the people of Asgard. She fought and nearly died to protect the nine realms, to protect Asgard, to protect _me_. I couldn't believe that he could toss her aside with so much apathy, "after all the blood she has spilled in your name? After all the wounds she has sustained to protect the realm?" I asked, still not able to understand how he could turn his back on her when she had never done so to us. If only he could open his heart and understand that her departure from Asgard was the product of his own distrust in her, he would have more sympathy. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that my father, in all my life, never showed Eva mercy or compassion, even though he claimed to.

"_Yes_!" he finally boomed, his voice echoing off the walls that had once echoed the sweet sound of her voice as she sang. The floor beneath us seemed to quake ever so slightly when he yelled, but he ignored it as he continued, "even after all she has done, all she has given, she decided to abandon us to tend to matters elsewhere. Since she has forfeited her loyalty to Asgard, Asgard will place its loyalty at her feet no longer," he exclaimed, as if his words were law. I knew better, though. Asgard would never turn their back on Eva even if my father demanded it. People would die fighting for her if that was what it took to prove their loyalty to her. I had seen the change myself.

"She left Asgard-put her _life_ at risk-to help a friend in need because you _refused_ to give her the responsibility she was meant to have!" I yelled, slamming my fist against the table and sending the pieces on the table flying as it absorbed the impact. I was furious that he would brush her aside so nonchalantly, as if she had never been one of his most prized warriors at one point.

"And what responsibility is it you think she is destined to have?" he asked, narrowing his eye at me as if he was challenging me. If he was trying to challenge me about Eva, I would treat him as a man, not my father, not my king. He would be my equal, and I would fight for her. He continued, his voice colder than before, "do you think her to be willing and able to take prisoners into her care and rehabilitate them? Do you_ honestly_ think that highly of her?" he asked, referring to Loki as nothing more than a prisoner. He was the man I grew up with, the man I would still die for.

"My brother is more than just a prisoner!"

"He is _not_ your brother!" he boomed, rubbing salt in the wound that still felt just as fresh as when I first received it. Loki would always be my brother, no matter what. I didn't trust him, but I still loved him. He was my family. My father continued, "just as Eva is _not_ the person you think she is!"

I scowled, repulsed by him in that moment, "your lack of faith in her is disgusting, father, especially after she has proven her loyalty time and time again in more ways than one," I growled, casting my eyes away from him, unable to even look at the man who fathered me. He built me into a strong man who would someday take over as King of Asgard, but his actions toward Eva had disappointed me so greatly that I was unsure of how I wanted to proceed. A part of me wanted to run away to Midgard, find her, and bring her back, and another part of me just wanted to escape Asgard and lose myself in the deepest depths of the universe just to escape from the unending cycle of betrayal. I didn't want to see my father turn against someone I regarded so highly.

He shook his head, and his presence seemed to soften just enough that I was willing to look at him once more. He looked to be lost in thought for a moment, remembering a time that I had no recollection of, memories that occurred a lifetime ago. He cleared his throat, "she has done nothing to merit my distrust, but it's there in her blood, like a slow-acting poison that's waiting for the perfect time to strike. There was another man who proved his loyalty to me time and again, a man whose eyes I see every time I look at her-green like the color of spring-a man I've known all my life," he reminisced, gazing off into the horizon that spanned out across the balcony that sat on the other side of the table, "walk with me and continue learning," he demanded before turning on his heel and swiftly walking out of the room, leaving me to scramble in order to catch up with him. Once I was by his side, his pace slowed, and his eyes scanned the halls for any intrusive ears, "right before Ezra arrived, do you remember what we spoke of?"

That day had been a whirlwind, and the events following had only added more chaos. However, when I thought back to it, I remembered the story he had been in the middle of telling me when we were interrupted by Ezra's challenging voice. I nodded my head, "you were telling me of your older brother, Cul, and how you had banished him to the Realm of Death because you couldn't bring yourself to kill him after you removed him from the throne of Asgard. You said that if you could go back with all you know now, you _would_ have killed him, though, and that was the last thing I can remember you saying about it," I confessed, not remembering if he had continued on past that, or if those were his last words before we were interrupted.

He nodded his head, seemingly pleased with my memory of that day, "well, when I banished Cul to the Realm of Death, he met the entity known as Death herself. Death was created at the beginning of the universe itself along with her siblings, the other cosmic entities who are also known as Infinity, Eternity, Oblivion, and Galactus. These entities are the most powerful in the universe. Death had corrupted men and women in the past to bring her lives, seeing them as some of the greatest gifts. She was the embodiment of death and destruction, so when she could corrupt others into bending to her will, she could reap the benefits of their destruction and mayhem for years. However, she saw that she wouldn't have to corrupt my brother because he was bloodthirsty, willing to kill for the sake of killing," he spat out like it was a disgusting taste in his mouth, "I don't know if she saw his fearlessness and his bravery and mistook them as honorable traits when he used them dishonorably or if she just didn't care. All she knew was that he had delivered many gifts to her in the form of the souls he had taken in the battle for Asgard, and she grew fond of him."

I listened intently, wondering where he was going with this tale, wondering what he was trying to convey to me through a story that seemed so insignificant, "the two of them began an affair, a love that could've torn the universe apart, an affair that still poses a great threat even after it ended a thousand years ago. Shortly after you were born, Asgard received a visit from Death herself. This would be the visit where the tree of life and death would be born, but she hadn't come alone. With her, she brought two infants-twins, one boy and one girl-the product of my brother, the God of Fear, and herself, the cosmic entity of death," he revealed, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. It should've been impossible. Death could not bring about life. It was a contradiction. Before I had the opportunity to question him, he continued as if such groundbreaking news was no more important than speaking of the clouds in the sky, "she told me that when she discovered that she was pregnant, she saw a world of possibilities open up before her. She saw the universe differently and only wanted what was best for her children. Knowing that they would be in danger in the presence of their father, she was willing to give them away in order to protect them. It was a selfless act but one that I was skeptical of."

"Aaldir took both children under his care, and he promised to watch over them, love them as though they were his own. I had faith in him because he had already proven to do well with children. He had taken Hjalmar in as a young boy, and he was raising him to be one of the best warriors Asgard would ever know. I had faith that he would care for the other two and keep them as far away from the other Asgardians as possible. They were little monsters, abominations that had been born of death, destruction, and fear. They were born with a fire in their blood, and he was the best man to see to it that the fire was never ignited," he explained, pausing as we passed one of the guards in the hallway. He clasped his hands behind his body, walking with purpose as we passed the guard who bowed down to him.

He began speaking once more when we were out of earshot, but his voice was lower that time, as to not pull the attention of anyone who could've been eavesdropping. The information I was receiving from my father was clearly a very well-kept secret, "I knew that Cul was rallying his forces to attack Asgard. I knew that I could only sleep soundly for so long before he managed to escape from the Realm of Death and come back to exact his revenge, so I had no choice but to act in favor of my people. In a desperate attempt to forge an everlasting peace between the two of us, I decided to break my promise to Death and give the children to their father. However, your mother fought with me tooth and nail, telling me that sending them to their father was a fate worse than death, so I considered the alternative, which would be to kill the two infants. It was then that Frigga threatened to throw herself from the Bifrost should I cause harm to the children," he remembered, the thought sending a chill through him that I witnessed as the pupil of his one good eye dilated. It didn't surprise me to hear my mother going to great lengths to show mercy as she had done it countless times throughout my life, often putting herself at the mercy of my father in order to fight on behalf of Eva, Loki, or myself. Even Hjalmar had received the same treatment.

"I decided against killing the children, feeling guilty that the thought even crossed my mind in the first place. Even though I viewed them as monsters, they were still infants, smaller than you were at the time. I knew that the best thing to do for the realm was to separate them instead. Together, these twins could bring about a destruction like never before. They would grow to be more powerful than any Gods, for they were the product of one of the most powerful Gods _and _the most powerful cosmic entity. They would far surpass my strength, and if they were together, they could very well tear apart the very fabric of the universe along with the lives within it," he explained, staring out across the vast expanse of forest that stretched out to the mountains in the distance. The outer halls of the palace were not closed off to the outside world, allowing us to look out across the realm. He stopped walking, leaning his hands against the golden railing that was held up by small marble pillars, "if they were kept apart, sent off to opposite ends of the universe, the chance that they could corrupt each other and bring about the Great Annihilation was far less probable. I knew, however, that there was an equal chance that they could spread goodness and light across the universe, that they could bring about the Great Rebirth, but there was still the opportunity that they could lay waste to it. I couldn't overlook those risks."

"I left to confront Aaldir, and I demanded he choose between the two infants. He would be left with the decision of who stayed in Asgard and who was sent to Cul. Cul would see this as a show of peace, and one of the infants would still be spared. I would keep a part of my promise to Death. The infant who was chosen to stay with us would be kept a secret, and the infant who was chosen to return to their father would be doomed to a fate worse than death. I forced Aaldir to choose, and he chose to keep the girl in Asgard, sensing a light within her that wouldn't die out even in the darkest moments. He sensed a goodness in her that he'd never seen before, and I trusted his judgement," he said, slowly confirming my worst fear. I didn't want to believe his words, but it all began to make sense. Until he spoke the words, until there was not a single doubt left in my mind, I couldn't believe that Eva could be anything but what I had always known her as. I refused to believe that she was the product of Death and fear. She was the embodiment of life, so it was impossible for her to be the product of Death. She was a contradiction on the battlefield, but she couldn't be what my father was insinuating. I loved her. I knew who she was, and this _wasn't_ who she was, "I took the boy and brought him to the palace before summoning my brother," my father added before I had the opportunity to speak and voice my concerns.

"Aaldir insisted on handing the boy over to his true father, and I watched as my brother accepted this trade as a sign of peace. He retired to the Realm of Death where I never heard from him again...that is, until, we received a visit recently from the boy I had sent away over a thousand years ago: Ezra, son of Cul. My brother knows that there is another, and he's willing to do anything to get his hands on her. He can sense her presence here, and he knows our treachery. He knows what I've kept from him, and even though I gave him Ezra as an act of peace, keeping his daughter from him is seen as an act of war," he explained, fear radiating from him and hitting me like they were the harsh rays of the sun on a summer afternoon, "Ezra has already made himself at home here, and he has been slowly corrupting the minds of those in the dungeons. I received news once again today that Ezra stared down one of the other prisoners until they began slamming their head against their cell wall, not stopping until they were dead. He has brought a madness with him to Asgard, and it won't be long until it rubs off on his sister, the siren, the songbird, the one the Gods forgot: _Eva Culsdottir, Godsbane_"

* * *

***Loki's POV***

A scream tore through me as the most unbelievable, unimaginable pain coursed through me. It felt like there was a fire within my veins, like nothing would ever be able to put it out. The pain I had felt in my abdomen since before Eva brought Ezra down to the dungeons only added to the pain, making it unbearable and causing me to scream out in agony as I threw myself to the floor. It felt like I was on fire, but the burning was unnatural. When I had been tortured by Thanos and his Black Order, at least some of the pain would subside once the burn had successfully killed away the pain receptors. Then, they would always just move on to another part of my body. However, this was a pain that was similar yet unfamiliar all at once. It felt like the fire-the burning-spread throughout my entire body all at once, but it didn't burn away my pain receptors. Instead, I was doomed to curl up on the floor, screaming out in agony.

Something was wrong. Eva was in trouble. We were connected so deeply that our pain was shared between the two of us. I knew that something terrible had happened, or it was about to. Nothing good could come out of a feeling like this. Staring down at my skin, I began to wish for death with each passing second, which felt like it went on for an hour. As the pain continued, my body unable to accommodate it, I began tearing at my arms, trying to stop what felt like the heat of a dying star from spreading through me. It was like I was being set ablaze, but the flames didn't claim my life. Instead, they danced beneath my skin and taunted me like the other children used to when I was younger, "THOR!" I screamed, hoping that he could somehow hear my desperate cries for him.

He was the only one who could save her, who could find her and help her. If I had been able to break free of my cell, I would've already been at the Bifrost, demanding Heimdall to send me to Midgard, but I couldn't. Thor was my only hope. I was desperate. I continued to scream out for him between the agony-filled cries that escaped my lips. In Ezra's cell, my eyes focused just enough to see that the newest enemy of Asgard was in the process of tearing his clothes from his body, leaving himself in nothing more than the thin fabric that provided him some modesty. He groaned, his chest heaving as he clenched his jaw. It was abundantly clear, even through my blurred vision, that he was in just as much pain. However, I'd seen how the pain only fueled Ezra. Still, it didn't make sense why he was in pain. Was he just as connected to Eva as I was? How could he be? They had no history together.

"THOR!" I called out once more, rolling onto my back as I stared up at the white ceiling of my cell. I wished for death, but I also wished for the pain to subside and allow me to live. With Eva still alive, there was a reason for me to continue. There was a future waiting for me, and I couldn't abandon that like I had once before. I managed to contain my screams just long enough to whisper words I knew she wouldn't be able to hear from realms away, "please be safe, please be safe, please be safe," I repeated, almost as if I was begging the Gods to protect her for as long as possible. I made the silent promise that I'd live the rest of my life in their debt if they kept her alive long enough for Thor to arrive and help her, but I didn't know if the Gods would even listen to me anymore.

"_Move_!" I heard Thor's booming voice from the stone stairway that led down to the dungeons. It was clear that he was having a confrontation with one of the guards. If it had been Ephinea, she would've let him pass without a single question, but I didn't know who it was at the top of the stairs. As another scream escaped my lips, I heard the crack of thunder in the distance, and the dungeons went silent. I swallowed my wails long enough to hear the slight scuffle at the top of the stairs, "that's my brother. Get out of my way!" he demanded before I heard armor hitting the floor.

He threw the guard.

I knew it. If I hadn't been in so much pain, I would've laughed. It was so in-character for Thor to do something like that, with so much brute force. Almost immediately after the crash of armor against the floor, I saw him appear in the doorway, running over to my cell. His eyes scanned my body, and I rolled over onto my stomach to push myself up. As soon as I got onto my hands and knees, another surge of pain ripped through my body, feeling like it was going to tear me in two, "she's in trouble. You need to find her!" I yelled, unable to maintain a normal volume due to the high levels of pain I was experiencing. My hands balled up into fists as I tried to push myself up the remainder of the way, but the moment I moved, it made the pain that much worse, and another scream wracked through me.

"Heimdall told me that he would inform me the moment she was in danger. You speak nonsense right now, brother. Tell me what's happening to you, and I'll have mother find an elixir for you," he urged me to speak to him. It was as if no time had passed at all, like we had seen each other only the day before. It was like New York never even happened, and I was still just Loki, his annoying, mischievous younger brother.

"I don't need an elixir!" I yelled, falling back down to the floor as trying to stand was proving to be a worthless battle to fight. I clenched my jaw, trying to stifle the next scream that was bubbling up as my skin felt like it would melt off at any moment. From the floor of my cell, I watched as Ezra doubled over in pain, a pained cry escaping his lips. It was impossible. There was no way they were connected, but then...why would he be experiencing the same thing? The question was pushed to the side when I realized just how serious her situation must've been "she's in pain. She's dying! Find her and save her, or I will break out of this cell and kill you before I do the job myself!" I threatened through gritted teeth.

Thor's eyes softened, and he looked at me like he used to. I wasn't the man who killed and maimed on Midgard. I wasn't the trickster. I wasn't the troublemaker. I was a man in love. In that moment, he saw me man to man. A realization dawned on him as the silence fell between us. I writhed around the floor, my fingernails digging into my palms as I tried to fight off the pain. He spoke once more, "Heimdall promised to keep an eye on her while she was on Midgard, and the moment she was in need of assistance, he would summon Aaldir and I. He hasn't summoned me, so whatever you're feeling, it's a coincidence. I'll speak with mother, and-"

Ezra's voice cut him off, "if you don't leave now, my sister is going to die!" he yelled, catching me off guard. Sister? What? Eva had no siblings aside from Hjalmar, but they were both just adopted by Aaldir. She had no family, no connections. While his eyes bore a striking resemblance to hers, there was too much stacked against his claim. They were like polar opposites. Ezra's outburst didn't come as a surprise to Thor, even though it startled me. Did he know something I didn't? Before I had the chance to pull his attention from Ezra, Asgard's newest enemy continued speaking, "and if she dies, _you die_!" he claimed before a pained scream escaped his lips. He fell to the floor, his body convulsing in pain.

My eyes found Thor's and I knew that I had to do whatever it took to get him to just trust me on this, to trust that I knew what was going on. Pushing the pain aside for as long as I could, I took a deep breath, knowing that it was the only way to save her life, "she's the only thing I have left, Thor, and I know that it doesn't seem like I know what I'm talking about, but I need you to trust me. I know that something isn't right. I know that she's in danger, and I can't lose her. If I lose her, I'll lose myself again, and I can't go through that again," I whispered, stifling a pained moan as I bit down on my bottom lip. A shaky breath escaped my lungs as I fought back the urge to scream, "I need you to do this for me. I need you to save her because I can't be that person for her right now. Please...I'm asking you as your _brother_," I begged him, a tear cascading down my cheek.

Just as he opened his mouth to answer me, a loud pounding sounded from beyond the castle walls, and I knew by the way Thor jumped that it was Heimdall summoning him to the Bifrost. It only confirmed my fears. Eva was in trouble, and I could do absolutely nothing to help her. I had made the worst decisions of my life that landed me in my cell, and I had to live with the fact that if she were to die, the guilt would drive me to my own demise. I was certain that I'd follow her close behind if she were to part from this life. Thor's gaze softened, blue eyes meeting my own. He recognized me. For the first time in years, he recognized my face, the face of a man who had everything to lose, a man who had nothing without her.

* * *

***Steve's POV***

As soon as the doorbell rang, _she _was ready to greet the people she referred to as her family. Her raven black hair that usually fell in wild curls and waves around her shoulders, reaching the middle of her back and hiding pieces of her beautiful face had been pulled back into a braid that looked like a crown. It was fitting. She looked like a princess. The remainder of her-darker than the night-hair cascaded over her strong shoulders that continuously held the weight of the world. She had debated on whether or not to braid it, and she gave up when he hair became too tangled to work with, but she persisted, which was no surprise. The second Natasha stepped over the threshold of the door, followed closely by Clint and Bruce, her emerald green eyes lit up with excitement to see them. We never lived far apart, but with Tony's recent call and the urgency in his voice, we all knew that it would be for the best that we stayed close to _her_. The lightest dusting of freckles looked like they had been dropped upon her nose and cheeks by angels who ran out of space in the sky for the stars, so they placed them upon her fair skin.

As she greeted Clint, Nat, and Bruce, I continued to run through the countless scenarios in my head of who or what was out there trying to hurt her. Clint wrapped his arms around her slender frame, and our eyes locked. With nothing more than a single nod from me, he knew that the four of us needed to speak privately. He pulled away, resting a hand on her shoulder, "alright, sweet pea, you should probably get yourself dressed into something other than those PJ's because you're gonna start making _me_ tired if you don't!" he exclaimed, finding the perfect way to get her to retire into her bedroom, giving us enough time to discuss.

"Steve never told me _why _you were coming over," she stated, trying to get an answer from someone else, her voice sounding like the most precious song I'd ever heard. All I could bring myself to tell her was that the rest of the team was going to be staying with us, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her why. She didn't need the added stress of feeling like her life was in danger. That was the exact reason Tony sent her to stay with me in the first place. He wanted to protect her, and now, it was my turn to protect her.

"Like we need a reason to come visit our unofficial team captain," Clint joked, trying to ease the tension in the room as he clapped a hand over her shoulder.

Even as she smiled at his answer, I could tell that she wasn't satisfied. Before I could stumble over an answer, which would undoubtedly result in a trainwreck of a coverup, Natasha piped up, "we're just gonna be staying together for a little while until Tony's finished with his business," she explained, not _technically_ lying but still being deceitful. She was good at it, and she hated that. Still, we did what we had to do to keep _her_ safe and oblivious to what was going on. Natasha smiled, full lips tugging up into an expression that I could tell was genuine, "so...how about you go get changed, and I'll make us some lunch?" she asked, waving _her_ off toward the other room.

She rolled her green eyes-the color of spring-and snickered as her long legs carried her toward the hallway that led to her room. She cast a glance back at us, her eyes locking with Natasha's, "I think we should leave the cooking to Bruce this time," she teased Nat once again for the incident that happened months prior when Nat had nearly burned the tower down trying to make bacon. In an attempt to escape Natasha's "wrath"-a feeling that was always playful when she was around _her_-the pajama clad "sweet pea" sprinted down the hallway.

"You're lucky you're faster than me!" Natasha called out to _her_ in a teasing manner. They had a glorious banter between the two of them with Nat always excusing _her_ behavior by saying she was faster, taller, or more agile. Natasha's skill set was no big surprise, but the _real_ surprise was when Natasha took _her_ under her wing and began training her. While we stayed conscious of any new _abilities_, Natasha refused to let _her_ be vulnerable should anything happen. Within a month, _she_ was faster, stronger, and more agile than any of us could have anticipated, surpassing both Natasha and Clint, the people who trained her. Nat's blue eyes met mine, and she jerked her head to the side before bringing the group of us to the opposite end of the apartment, making sure that _she_ couldn't hear us even if she tried, "does anyone know anything?" she asked once we were far enough away from the hallway.

Clint and Bruce shook their heads, but I couldn't. All of their eyes landed on me, and I took a deep breath, casting my gaze over to the hallway, not wanting her to overhear something that would inevitably startle her, "all I know is that Tony sounded more worried than ever before when I talked to him on the phone. He said that Eva _insisted _we all stay with her, that...someone was coming for her," I said, repeating the words Tony had used. They made my skin crawl just thinking about the potential threat we could be up against.

Bruce shook his head, "is she talking about another Asgardian?" he asked, the fear clear in his eyes as he thought about another Asgardian bringing another world of chaos.

With a shrug of my shoulders, I crossed my arms over my chest, "I have no idea, but if we are, we're lacking three _crucial_ people. We don't have Tony, Thor, or Eva. All Tony said was that Eva spoke of a man, and he thinks he could be another Asgardian. The way she spoke of him is clear that he's not from around here, so we would be dealing with another Asgardian or another entity altogether," I answered, wishing I had more to give them. We were still so far in the dark, but it didn't matter because none of us _needed_ answers because we never questioned our loyalty or love for _her_ or Eva, "and if we are faced with another alien army, if they do rain down upon us like they did before, we're going to fight just like we did before. If we die, we die, but we don't let anyone close to _her_. She's top priority," I added, knowing that we would sooner meet our inevitable deaths than let anyone hurt _her_. Everyone nodded their heads in agreement, silence falling over us, but the silence didn't last for long...it never did.

From her bedroom, a blood-curdling scream echoed down the hall, making my blood run cold.


	22. If I Leave You

***Eva's POV***

The pain was excruciating, especially when it was mixed with the already unbearable pain that radiated from my abdomen. The Extremis felt like a fire coursing through my veins as I remained strapped down to the table. All I could do was scream and cry, but I refused to give in. Tony and I had lost control of the situation once we got into the compound and found that the Mandarin was nothing more than a man, a decoy. My brutally weakened body made it impossible for me to perform the way I had on the battlefield, so by the time we made it into the compound, my abilities were seemingly spent. I felt human, and there was nothing "spectacular" up my sleeve. When Savin snuck up on Tony and I, I hadn't even heard him, which only added to my guilt when I watched them drag Tony's unconscious body away from me as I was dragged in the opposite direction. I kicked and screamed for them to let him go, but no one listened to a prisoner, and that was what I became.

I was dragged into a room filled with machines and the scientists who operated them. Everyone in the room stood around and watched as I was forced to strip away my armor, placing Soulkeeper next to the pieces of armor on the floor. They were whisked away from me before I was given the order to strip away the remainder of my clothing. Upon my refusal, my clothes were _torn_ from my body as hot tears stung my eyes in shame. Asgardians viewed their bodies as art. They were covered to maintain modesty, but there was no shame in our bodies. In that moment, though, when my modesty was taken from me, I felt ashamed. I had quickly covered myself up, unable to do anything but tremble at their mercy, but I never knew mercy. The heat of anger had risen within me, but the moment I saw the veins in my hands begin to take on the red glow, I swallowed it down with my tears.

After tossing a pair of undergarments to me, I was instructed to dress myself, an order I was glad to follow. Once I was finished covering up my most intimate areas, I was dragged to the metal table that I was still strapped to. They began hooking me up to the various machines and poking me with needles, but that still wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was the pain that came when the Extremis serum entered my bloodstream. If the wound hadn't taken away every ounce of strength I had, my body would've fought against the serum, but I was left suffering with the pain it caused instead. I was hyper aware of every single vein as the fire spread through me. It was the most bizarre, physically painful feeling I'd ever experienced in all my life. The fire didn't die away either. Just when I thought my body would grow accustomed to it, and I'd be left with the constant burn, my hopes were dashed as it continued to rob me of my peace.

Still, even with the pain being so unbearable, I refused to scream, just like I had refused to shed my tears as I was forced to disgrace my own body. They would have none of the satisfaction of breaking me, and I would make sure of it. Should they kill me, I wanted to die with the knowledge that I gave them _nothing_. If I left them with even an ounce of satisfaction, my death would've been shameful. As I laid on the table, the cold metal pressed against my fiery hot skin, I tried to think of _anything_ to take my mind off the way my soul felt like it was being burned out of me. I tried to think of the forest in Asgard, the tree, Loki..._her_. I wondered where she was, what she was doing, if she was safe...if she was _happy_. She would be my final thought before I drifted off into the void, but it was only fitting.

A lurch in my heart brought me back to the current situation. If I accepted my own death, I was dooming Tony. We had come here _together_, and I needed to find a way to ensure his survival. If I survived, it would be a miracle, but I had to try for more than just my own sake. Tony _needed_ to live. Struggling to find any ounce of power that could possibly be left within me, I tried to break free of the restraints. Tony was my priority in that moment and the soft whisper of life reminded me that I had to hold on as tightly as possible. I couldn't think of the future or the past, I needed to think of that very moment. I needed to find a way to save the man who always saved me. Fighting against the restraints that held me in place, the anger rose within me, and my skin began to glow like a fire was lit beneath the surface. It was the same look I witnessed in Savin and Brandt the night Savin brought a water tower down onto Tony and I.

As my skin began to glow, the pain only intensified. I groaned, trying to use the pain to my advantage. On the battlefield, the pain only fueled the rage that was buried within me. I was able to pick up a small piece of that deep-seated fury and continue on because of it. As my skin became almost transparent, showcasing the fire that had taken over my blood, I felt the cool metal beginning to heat up and melt beneath me. As the scientists around me scrambled, looking to one another for some kind of answer, one of the restraints gave way to the heat, and I pulled my arm from it. Just as I reached over to free my opposite hand, a sharp pain in the back of my neck caused the world to fade away from my view.

A ragged breath pulled me out of my unconscious state, almost as if I was waking up _from _a nightmare instead of the reality that I was waking up _into_ one. I was strapped against a new table, and there was an IV hooked to my neck that reached a plastic bag filled with clear liquid. In front of me, dressed in a white suit and fixing the cufflinks at his wrists, stood a man with golden hair and blue eyes. His eyes scanned my body over and over again, making me want to sink into the metal table I was on. My entire body had been restrained once more, and it was clear that they had taken extra precautions that time around. The pain had died away slightly, but I still felt the urge to scream, thinking that it would somehow release the tension that was building within me. I felt dazed, my eyes barely able to focus even the man in front of me as a bizarre smile spread across his face, "hi," he trembled, raising his hand to wave at me. He seemed almost speechless or as if he was bashful, "I'm...Killian, and you must be Eva. I've heard a lot about you."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "what happened?" I asked, unaware of what led up to my sudden loss of consciousness. My head didn't hurt, so I knew I couldn't have been knocked unconscious, but I could vaguely remember the pain in the back of my neck. My eyes caught the bag of clear liquid once more, and I felt myself beginning to slip out of consciousness once more. Dark circles clouded the edges of my vision, and the sound of the other scientists speaking became like a distant murmur.

Before I could fade off into cold arms of the darkness again, I heard the sound I'd heard so many times before on the battlefield: a blade cutting through flesh. It was clear as day, almost like when a pin dropped in an empty, silent room. As soon as the warmth started spreading through my abdomen, stemming from that one spot, my ears began ringing. My breath hitched in my throat as my eyes shot open. I stared down at the source of the familiar warmth to see Killian's hand bathing in my blood that began to seep from the new wound. His fingers were clenched around the knife that was buried deep in my abdomen right within the wound that already existed there. The pain didn't start until he began to twist the dagger as he pulled it from my body, though, and a new sensation followed.

The metallic taste of my own blood filled my mouth, but I swallowed it back, tears stinging my eyes as I thought of all I would miss. I didn't want to die. A portion of my life-the portion without Loki, without..._her_-was worthless. For a while, I didn't care if Death took me, pulled me away from my misery and shoved me into the coldest depths of the afterlife. Now, I had so much left to lose. I had Harley and Kaia, Loki, _her_. I had so much that was still left to be done, but the probability of living long enough to finish all the things I had started, all the things I was _ready_ for, was slowly diminishing. Killian was going to kill me. In that moment, I knew that I wouldn't make it out of the compound alive. His blue eyes held too much excitement in them when he looked down at the blood on his hand, and it occurred to me that this was a man driven by power-_madness_.

He held up a finger, "_don't_..." he began, wiping the blood from the knife onto his handkerchief, "ask me questions," he warned me, a deranged smile crossing over his lips, "it's not your place, sweetheart."

I narrowed my eyes at him, grunting as the pain threatened to tear me in two, "I'm not...your sweetheart," I growled through gritted teeth, knowing that Tony would be working on finding a way out of the compound already. He was probably formulating a plan at that very moment, and my final act of selfless love I felt for him would be to buy him enough time to escape. I was prepared for all the pain in the world, knowing that the more time he spent on me, the less time he would have with Tony. Gripping my restraints, I arched one of my brows, challenging him.

He grinned, wiping the blood from his hands with the handkerchief before folding it back up and putting it back into the pocket of his suit, "you're bold for a girl who is currently at my mercy," he said, slipping his arms from his suit jacket before tossing it to the side. He closed the space between us, lifting his fingers to trail along my skin at the same pace that Loki's once had. Killian's were rougher, though. His touch was filled with anger, frustration, and a burning desire for power. I flinched away from his touch, but there was only so far back I could go with the restraints holding me firmly in place, "I could...do _whatever_ I wanted to you right now, whatever I desired, and you can't do anything to stop me. Do you realize just how much power I have over you? Are you oblivious?" he asked, his fingers trailing along the taut skin just below my ribs. It was where Loki often rested his head, making sure to press a single kiss there right before falling asleep with my hands tangled in his hair. I'd never feel that again.

I grimaced at his words, disgusted with his demeanor. When I killed, it was always quick and as painless as possible. When my father brought Hjalmar and I out into the woods to hunt for food, he always told me to aim straight for the heart because the animal would die quickly. It wouldn't be forced to suffer and bleed out. Allowing something to suffer was cruel, so I took that lesson with me throughout life. Even when I was on the battlefield, facing those who had taken the lives of my friends and comrades, I still gave them a quick death, believing it to be my duty. I dreamed of one day taking my time with Thanos, but he deserved none of my empathy. What Killian was doing was cruel, sick, _twisted_. When I failed to answer his question, he closed the space between us, grabbing my chin and jerking my head over so that our eyes met, "I asked you a question. _Answer me_!" he hissed, his voice low as his skin glowed just like mine had only moments prior and similar to the way Savin's and Brandt's had when Tony and I encountered them.

"You don't have to do this," I whispered, hoping that I could somehow reason with him. I still had a lot to look forward to, a lot that was left undone-_unsaid_. Loki shouldn't have heard of my secret from my father. It was supposed to be me. It was supposed to be before his fall from the Bifrost. If only I had told him sooner, perhaps none of this would've happened. Perhaps we'd be helping Tony together, and we wouldn't have been stuck in this mess to begin with. There was so much I had left to do, and the essence of life was still a whisper in my soul, telling me that I was ready.

He snickered, the side of his mouth pulling up into a smirk, "I know that," he remarked, stepping away from me, his hands finally leaving my skin. I breathed a soft sigh of relief as he turned away. He shrugged his shoulders, "none of us really _have_ to do anything. I'm simply using my free will to, well...live in a world that _I_ design. You'll be by my side through it all," he ranted, unbuttoning the sleeves of his white dress shirt and rolling them up. He stepped closer to me once again, closing all the space between us. His breath was warm against my neck as he sighed against my ear, "you'll be my biggest achievement yet, my _pet_," he whispered, causing me to flinch at his words. His fingers danced along my hips, coming dangerously close to the undergarments I was so _graciously _allowed to wear.

I tried to twist away from his touch, grunting as I pressed against the restraints. They made sure that I would have worse luck should I try to escape again. Multiple metal clasps hugged my arms, legs, and abdomen, but between the clasps, there was skin that he felt entitled to explore, "he's going to kill you for this," I warned him, knowing just how protective Tony was over me. He pulled away from me, narrowing his eyes at me as I saw the anger burning beneath them. Regardless of what he did to me, Tony was going to find joy in ending his life. He had already put my life in danger, and that was enough. The more Killian put me through, the worse his fate would be. I shook my head, still not wanting there to be anymore bloodshed. As long as he was breathing, there was a _chance_ that he could change, and if I could bring that out of him, it was far better than the alternative, "you won't walk away from it if you don't give this up now. I don't want anyone else to die because of this," I stated, trying to plead with him. There was another road that he could take, a road that didn't lead to death.

"He's going to agree to work with me on this, or _he_ is going to be the one to die. There's no other alternative here, sweetheart," he growled, dropping the condescending name once more. When Steve, Clint, Bruce, or Tony said it, it was meant to be endearing. We all had our nicknames for each other, but it never minimized the strength and ferocity that each of us embodied. Killian was using the name as a way to put himself above me, to gain power and control over me, especially after I argued against his use of the nickname. Small droplets of blood began to pool up at my feet as the stab wound he created only moments prior continued to bleed, "we need to make him agree by any means necessary, and you're going to help me do that," he insisted, his hand trailing up my hips and waist before ghosting them across my chest.

Upon seeing my face twist in disgust, he stepped directly in front of me, his hand locking around my throat as the other found the knife he used to attack my body already. He ran the blade along my face, the cool metal feeling like danger. A part of me was thirsty for it. I had done enough in my life to deserve the pain, to deserve the tears I would refuse to shed. I clenched my jaw, preparing myself for the worst. Nothing he could do to me would hurt more than what I've done to myself. I'd already torn my own soul to pieces, so he would own none of my pain, "I'll _never_ submit to you," I choked out, continuing to taste the blood upon my tongue.

He chuckled, releasing my throat from his firm grasp and moving his hand to the back of my neck where he fisted my hair. He pulled my head back, leaving my neck completely vulnerable. He ran the cold blade along my neck, and I was left wondering if I'd pushed him too far. I continued to gasp for air as he spoke, "then I'll be forced to use you to make Tony submit to me," he mused, almost as if the thought of it left him in joyful anticipation. The knife disappeared from my skin for a moment before it was plunged into my body right below my ribs, knocking the wind right out of me. I was left gasping for air as his warm breath cascaded across my unguarded neck. I bit down hard on my bottom lip to keep myself from screaming, but that only angered him more, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to hurt you...because I _do_. I want you to make you scream, and I want to hear you beg for your life. You represent something for Tony, and I'm starting to realize that the only way to break him is to first break _you_," he hissed, twisting the knife as he plunged it even further into me, stopping only once the remainder of the blade was lodged into my body.

The effort it took to keep myself from screaming was exhausting. It reminded me of when I first began training with the sword. I knew what was expected of me, so I pushed myself harder than anyone else, wanting to prove that I was worthy of being a warrior of Asgard. I would end my day of training, hunched over, panting for breath, covered in sweat and tears. When I returned home, my father would tell me to bathe and prepare for another day of training that would take place the following day. This could be no different. I had to prepare myself for the pain that was to come, no matter how sore my body was, how weak my bones became, no matter how much I cried. I needed to do this for Tony...my final act of love. When he released my hair, I found Killian's blue eyes and groaned through the pain, "my name..." I panted, trying to catch my breath, "is Eva, daughter of Aaldir. My father taught me many things, but he never taught me how to break. You may try, but you will fail."

* * *

***Tony's POV***

_I was seven years old when I sat on the back porch steps listening to my parents fight one another. My mom was upset about my dad's "drinking problem," but I didn't know what that meant just yet. My dad had put on that familiar record that always left the shelf when Eva was visiting. It had some special significance to them. He'd turn it on and dance with her until the record had run its course. If they were still feeling playful, they'd flip the record to the other side, but if they were lost in each other, my father would continue to hold her close as they swayed back and forth to the sound of the smooth static. The vinyl static was a familiar sound, one that still echoed in my mind as an adult._

_As my parents argued inside the house, I had used that familiar sound to drown out my dad's booming voice. He always knew how to command a room. The door behind me that led out onto the back porch opened, causing the muffled sound to feel like it was even closer than before, like the loud voices of my parents would wrap me in a vice grip and suffocate me. Once the door closed, I listened to her soft footsteps padding along the oak deck. Without a single word, she lowered herself onto the steps right next to me, her mere presence acting like a moment of peace in the chaos. She put me at ease, much like my mother did after her and my dad argued. However, Eva was the calm __during __the storm, not just __after__ the storm. I felt her eyes on me, saddened by the animosity that seemed to live in that house. I turned my attention over to her, meeting her eyes, "why can't you just take me with you when you leave?"_

_She forced a smile, but even as a child, I saw that it was still filled with sorrow, "some days it's a thought that stays on my mind...like today," she answered, glancing back at the house where the argument was only escalating. It wouldn't be long before things were broken. My dad only knew how to fix things because he was a master at breaking them._

"_Then do it!" I exclaimed, desperate to leave the only place I'd ever really known._

_A light chuckle escaped her lips, and she looked out at the backyard that could easily fit an entire football field before it reached the forest tree line. The sun's rays caught her locks of dark brown hair, and made some of the strands look like liquid gold. Sunlight reflected in her green eyes, making them look even more vibrant than before. No man had ever seen such a green throughout human history. It was more pure than the emerald that sat in the center of a ring my father wore on his right hand, a ring he never took off even when he was working. It was a ring that was left to me when he died, but I never felt right wearing it, so it sat in my workshop. Her voice sounded like water maneuvering the rocks of a creek in the middle of a forest, smooth and light, "your place isn't in Asgard, it's here on Earth," she spoke, her eyes landing on me once more, "I see grand, important things in your future, little one, and I'm afraid that Asgard wouldn't be able to offer you the same drive you'll get while you're here. You belong here."_

"_But you're __there__. I belong with __you__!" I argued, hoping that she'd see my desperation and give in. I wanted to explore, to see the world she came from. It sounded magical. Plus, my two favorite people were on Asgard, and I would've given anything, even as a child, to be surrounded by the love they brought me, "you and Loki could take care of me!" I insisted as I watched the frown overcome her face. Even in her sadness, she looked like an angel. That was how I always saw her, too. She was my guardian angel, the one who acted as my shield, the one who built my foundation and made me strong._

"_And I want you to be with me, too," she confessed as memories of a time I wasn't a part of flashed before her eyes. It was like watching a movie, but I could only see the silhouettes of the characters. She smiled as one fond memory in particular touched her heart, "you have two parents here who __love __you, Anthony, and it would be unfair for me to take you away."_

_I shook my head, tears filling my eyes as my bottom lip quivered. I didn't want to cry, but if it ended up happening, I never felt ashamed when I cried with Eva. She knew how to comfort me better than anyone else. All she would do was wrap her arms around me, encasing me in an embrace that left me with a similar feeling of walking inside to escape the cold only to find that the fireplace was already lit. It was the kind of warmth that surrounded you and removed the chill from your bones the moment you felt it. In her arms, I felt safe. That safety and security left whenever she did, "but you could love me __more__," I realized aloud. I had no doubt that my mom loved me, but I must've come at a time in their lives when having a child just wasn't convenient. They were busy people, and when I was "lucky" enough to see them, their conversations would almost always end in an argument._

"_I'll __always__ love you more," she promised as she smiled down at me. She reached her hair up and stroked my hair back, her fingers running smoothly through the hair as she'd brushed out all the tangles shortly before my parents began their argument. My eyes fluttered closed, the feeling of her strong, gentle hands being ones I fell asleep to most nights. She would sit on the edge of the bed and rub my temple until I fell asleep as she sang a familiar lullaby. She always showed up even if it was just for a few hours when I was sad or sick, wanting to comfort me, and it was what made me love her more and more, "you're my little warrior, my little hero, my whole world," she revealed, pressing a kiss against my forehead. She lingered there for a long moment, almost as if she was trying to will away my sadness. If only it were that easy. When she pulled away, a playful grin spread across her lips, "besides, if I ever do take you to Asgard, you'll have to learn how to fight!"_

_Before I knew it, she was up and running. Eva was far faster than me, and my little legs could only move so fast. It was clear to me now that she slowed down to allow me to keep up with her. When I saw her destination-the pile of branches my father and I had gathered earlier that day for the campfire Loki would be present for-I pushed myself even faster, knowing exactly what she was going to do. She allowed me to overtake her, and I picked up the first branch, readying myself to use it as my "sword." She dove past me, tucking her body into a roll and grabbing a branch before gracefully pushing herself back up onto her feet. The way she moved was mesmerizing, which was something I never fully appreciated until I "met" her as an adult._

_She blocked every one of my swings, and I blocked each of hers, neither one of us daring to swing our branches too hard at the other for fear of causing harm. While I threw my body into each swing, using my childlike brute force, Eva had a much different approach. She stepped out of the way, using her makeshift sword as if it were a dance partner, and she was leading the way. Every move was fluid. Her hair-the top section of which was braided back out of her face-flowed like a waterfall of dark chocolate. It was like a scene from a movie. Laughter emitted from both of us, hers sounding like a song in the background of my life, a melody that played during my happiest moments._

_When I lunged at her for the last time, she disarmed me, tossing both out branches back down onto the ground before lifting me up into her arms. My legs locked around her waist, and she supported my weight with her strong arms. She swayed back and forth with me, rubbing circles into my back with her free hand as she hummed the melody I knew by heart, "shadows are falling, and I'm running out of breath. Keep me in your heart for a while. If I leave you, it doesn't mean I love you any less. Keep me in your heart for a while," she sang the song she always did to me. Her voice was ethereal and featherlight. Each word was filled to the brim with emotion. She continued humming, the sound making the birds stop their music-making and listen. Whenever she sang, the world became quiet as if it were drinking in the mystical essence of her voice._

_As she continued to sway back and forth with me, I wrapped my arms around her neck, resting my head on her shoulder, "I miss you when you leave," I spoke, knowing that no matter how tightly I held her, it was never enough to make her stay. She always left, but she always came back, too._

"_And I miss you even more, little one," she replied, her voice filled with the same premature grief that I felt. We both knew that she would be leaving later that night. Being away from each other was always the hard part. I lifted my head from her shoulder and faced her, our eyes locking, "when I leave you, each night, I rearrange the moon and stars in the sky so that they watch over you when you're sleeping. I put them there to watch over you throughout the night, so whenever you feel lonely, if you look up at the night sky, you'll find me there amongst the stars. You may not always see me, but I'm always there. As long as you keep me in your heart, I'm never far away," she added, resting her forehead against my own._

"_Do you look at them when you miss me?"_

"_Every night," she answered with a nod, "and when I fall asleep, I dream about moments like this...moments when I can hold the world in my arms."_

Another blood-curdling scream pulled me from my beautiful memory. It was Eva. I had no doubt in my mind. The last thing I could remember was discovering that the Mandarin was a fake-a decoy for the real perpetrator: Killian. Eva and I had been ambushed by Savin and a few of the other juiced up security guards that Killian had hiding around the compound. Next thing I knew, I was zip-tied to an upright metal bed frame, forced to listen to the pained screams of the one person who deserved none of it. I should've known not to go until she was ready. I should've taken what she said seriously. When she told me that she was feeling weak, I should've taken it to heart and waited. There was a time limit, but I also could've just done this on my own. I could've left her out of it, and maybe, my conscience would've been clear. I didn't minimize the risk. I should've fought her all the way, forced her to stay in Asgard somehow. Instead, I asked her to choose me, and she did. She _always _chose me. Therefore, every ounce of her pain...it was on me.

In the room that felt like it was straight out of a movie-the typical "super villain lair"-were the two security guards who-on their last visit-dragged Maya's body out of the room. With her sudden change of heart and threat to take her own life unless Killian let me go, he decided to shoot her instead. Before that, she had watched in terror as Killian forced me to look upon the hologram of Eva's beaten and pained state. Upon seeing her, it tore my heart in two. Blood was smeared across her body, and she looked to be in so much physical and emotional pain. I tried as hard as I could to get him to stay in the room with me instead of going back to her, knowing that she was probably formulating a plan at that very moment. My final act of selfless love I felt for her would be to buy her enough time to escape. I was prepared for all the pain in the world, knowing that the more time he spent on me, the less time he would have with Eva. It would give her the chance to escape.

He didn't stay, though. Instead, he returned to Eva, and I was forced to listen. The desperation he wanted to leave me with was almost as strong as the unrelenting guilt I felt as every scream echoed through the compound. Even the security guards flinched at the sound, but they couldn't possibly understand what it was doing to me. I fought back the tears, but they presented themselves so often that my eyes began burning. The only sound in the room-aside from those echoed screams and the sounds of me struggling to free myself-was the light shifting of the security guards' positions. One sat at the same desk Maya had been sitting at, but his chair was turned to face me. The other guard sat on three concrete stairs that led up to the platform the desk was on. If I listened to those light shifts intently enough, there was the potential that it would drown out Eva's desperate pleas, and perhaps, it would take the place of them in the nightmares that would follow should I survive.

The screams finally stopped, and a part of me feared that her body had finally given way, that she was finally at peace. It was the most selfish part of me that wished for her to live, even if it was in excruciating pain, because at least I wouldn't have to know what life was like without her. The other part of me-the selfless part-was the part that loved her the most, and it was the part that would've been understanding should she have given into the painless rest that she never had in life. Still, the absence of her screams worried me even more than the screams themselves. My hands began to shake, and I felt my heart racing. This was it. I was going to die. It was never how I anticipated it. I always thought that my death would be doing something stupid, something reckless, or maybe..._just maybe_, I'd get to die a hero. I'd get to die how Eva lived-selflessly, gracefully, lovingly, _heroically_. She always saw the hero in me, but that was there because I found my hero in her. As a boy, I remember wanting to be like her, and nothing changed even once I became a man.

The thought of losing her, of being utterly alone, had a physically impact on my body. My bones felt cold, and my chest felt hollow. The mere thought of having to live my life without her was so much different than I expected. I expected there to be pain, but it was the lack of everything that made it hurt. It was the lack of joy, of happiness, of _love_. I knew what the good stuff was because of her, and without her, my life would've been void of that. As my mind raced with thoughts of what my life would look like without her as a steady part of it, my heart continued to grow more and more barren. A part of me even wondered if it would've just been easier should I have never known her, which would be the equivalent of never knowing the sunset, never feeling those last rays of light against your skin before the chill of that moonlit air. A clap of Killian's hands pulled me from my darkening thoughts, and when he saw the fear in my eyes, he smirked, "don't worry, she's still alive...much to her dismay, I might add," he noted, almost as if he was taunting me.

Upon seeing the vibrant red blood that was splattered all over his clothes and hands, I narrowed my eyes at him, dreaming of the million ways I could kill him, "you better kill me now because when I get out of this, you're gonna see why we call ourselves the Avengers," I warned him, a part of me wishing that he would take me up on my offer. Even the most brutal death would prove to be much less painful than listening to her cries. Another part of me wanted to live long enough to kill him.

A laugh escaped his lips as he closed the space between us, walking down the cement stairs from the platform that led to the hallway he appeared from. Once he stood in front of me, I saw right through his calm and collected facade and witnessed the same madness I'd seen in Loki once. Killian reached out and locked a vice grip around my throat, squeezing hard enough to cut off all air flow. The blood on his hand made it slippery, but as I tried to maneuver away from him, his grip only tightened. He brought his face closer to mine before leaning into my ear, "by the time I'm done with her, they'll be nothing left for you to avenge," he whispered, finally releasing my throat. I pulled in a ragged breath, the air causing a stinging sensation on the way to my lungs.

His words terrified me. I knew that was his goal, but I didn't want to call his bluff. I _couldn't_ call his bluff when Eva's life was at stake. As I flinched at his words, visibly shaken by them, he laughed at the fear it brought me, "besides, it's nice to have an audience," he noted, turning away from me,"it's a truly magnificent thing, isn't it? I have control over something so powerful, so...beautiful. An Asgardian who is at my disposal. I can do whatever I want. With the snap of my fingers, I could kill her. This could be you, Tony. You have no idea what this power feels like! Imagine having an Asgardian as your puppet, your plaything, your _pet_. You could have any woman you wanted, but you never fawned after her. No woman even looked my way. None of them even gave me a parting glance. Now, I'm free to take whatever I want from this _goddess_ of a woman, and no one can stop me!" he exclaimed, making me feel sick to my stomach.

The thought of him defiling her body, shaming her in ways she should never know, it made my stomach turn. I wanted to argue against him, threaten him, tell him that if he laid a finger on her, I'd cut them off one by one while listening to him scream. Knowing that it would only lead to more damage, I decided to make the wise decision instead of the erratic, emotional one, "you want me to help you fix the serum? Let her go, and I'll do whatever you want," I promised, ready to sacrifice everything for her. My reputation, my name, my legacy-none of it meant a thing without her. I would throw away my life if it meant that she got to continue hers. I knew that if she heard my words, she would've argued against them and fought me to the very end. If I sacrificed my life for her, she was so stubborn that she'd find a way to bring me back just to kill me for being so "reckless."

He shook his head, scoffing at my proposal, "no, you see, that's _not_ how this works," he replied, turning back around to face me. He gestured between the two of us, "you don't get to make the demands in this situation. You're the one tied to a bed. _You _do what _I_ say, or both of you die!" he exclaimed, stressing his point to me. He turned on his heel and walked back up the stairs, making his way toward the hallway where Eva's screams would continue. It was as if he was solely coming to taunt me, to see what her torture was doing to me. It was sadistic. As he walked away, the hot tears of shame burned my eyes, and the lump in my throat rose. There was nothing I could do. I knew that if I gave in and helped him, he'd kill Eva anyway. The only possibility of her living was if I could get him to let her go or if a miracle would happen, and we managed to escape. He turned back to me once more before disappearing down the darkened hallway, "and you better make your decision soon because I'm an impatient man. You have as long as she keeps me entertained. When I get bored, I'll make you sit and watch what I do to her. If you haven't heard, she's quite the screamer, Tony. You've been _missing out_, but I'll give you a show you'll never forget," he laughed before he began his slow descent into the hallway.

"You hurt her, and you're dead!" I boomed, my voice echoing through the halls as I struggled to free myself just as I had time and time again, but nothing changed. All that happened was that I pulled the attention of the two security guards in the room.

"Too late," Killian called back to me, completely disappearing into the darkness. The hallways swallowing him into the building, and I wondered how long it would be this time. Last time, it was twelve seconds from the time he disappeared to the first scream that cut through my heart like a knife.

I closed my eyes and threw my head back, a tear finally escaping and streaming down my cheek. _One Mississippi_. This was my fault. _Two Mississippi_. It was all my fault. _Three Mississippi_. If she didn't already hate me, she would when it was over. _Four Mississippi_. I'd never forgive myself for this. _Five Mississippi_. Even if she lived to forgive me, I didn't deserve it._ Six Mississippi_. How would I tell _her_ about Eva _without_ Eva? _Seven Mississippi_. How could I live without the light? _Eight Mississippi_. How could the world carry on turning without her? _Nine Mississippi_. What if I never got to hold her again? _Ten Mississippi_. Or tell her exactly how I feel? _Eleven Mississippi_. What if she never knew just how much I loved her? _Twelve Mississippi_. Or how lucky I felt to have her in my life? _Thirteen Mississippi_. What if she became just a beautiful memory? _Fourteen-_

A scream caused me to flinch, my mouth pulling into a permanent frown. My eyes shot open as I stared down the hallway, tears blurring my vision. Fourteen seconds. I wished for death or for a miracle. I wished for the chance to apologize. Knowing Eva the way I did, I knew that she didn't even need an apology to forgive me for the mess I pulled us into. Knowing Eva, she'd tell me that there was no reason for me to be apologizing, that it wasn't my fault, that I was only doing my best. I tried to imagine the warmth of her touch, the way her fingers felt like silk against my skin. I tried to imagine her forehead pressed against my own, how each time, I felt safe, protected, _secure_.

A crack of thunder pulled me from my thoughts.

Killian pushed the wrong man to desperation.


	23. Keep Me In Your Heart

The clouds that hid the sun were darker than I'd ever seen them. The thunder boomed around me as I made my way out of the compound to catch the remaining pieces of my suit. Escaping wasn't easy, and I wasn't sure if the new tech I'd installed would work or not. It was my last hope for escaping and rescuing the woman who always _did _the rescuing. Knowing that I couldn't fight Killian without the entire suit, I was forced to waste precious time taking out his stereotypical villain henchmen. It felt like a movie, like at any minute the director would call "cut" and I'd be able to play the part of just Tony, a man who wanted to plant himself on a beach and just relax for a few hours. The final piece of my suit-the mask-came hurtling toward me at a horrifying speed, much faster than I originally intended.

I flinched, reaching my hand out and catching it in a surprising turn of events. I felt like a child who just choked on the baseball field, but he unknowingly caught the ball. I let out a sigh of relief, thankful for the speed that time around. I needed to find Eva as soon as possible, but I had to make a mental note to slow the pieces down for future use, or I'd be killed just getting into the suit. Right as I latched the mask into its proper spot, I grinned to myself, far more at home in the suit than just walking around, completely vulnerable. The moment the mask attached to the rest of the suit, Thor made his grand entrance along with an unfamiliar face beside him, "it's nice of you to finally show up. What took you so long? Hair appointment?" I asked, noticing how much his hair had grown since the last time we'd seen each other. It had been some time since New York, but it definitely changed him.

Before Thor could speak, the stranger interjected, "you must be Anthony," he said, clearly having heard something about me. There wasn't a single doubt in my mind that he was Asgardian. He looked to be older than Thor and stood taller than the God of Thunder. I didn't think Asgardians could possibly get bigger than Thor, but when I saw this new guy, it was clear that I had a lot to learn. The strangers eyes were filled with the same concern and fear as Thor's, but he still looked to be calm and collected. I got the feeling that if he didn't force himself to put off that facade, he'd fall apart, much like how I was coping with Eva's current situation. If I didn't have a moment of peaceful banter with someone, I was going to lose my mind. When I nodded my head, eyes wide in shock that he would know who I was, the stranger continued, looking embarrassed, "oh, forgive me. Eva says you prefer to be referred to as Tony. I'm Aaldir, Eva's father...for all intents and purposes," he introduced himself, clearly not wanting to waste precious time by explaining the little intricacies of their relationship.

Knowing that he was her father was more than enough for me to realize that this was serious for him. He wouldn't have come in any other circumstance, and while it was hard to face him with the knowledge that I caused this, I knew that voicing my guilt would only be wasting time that wasn't supposed to be wasted, especially when her life was on the line. I flipped up the mask of my suit, wanting to be as polite as possible. It was the least I could do in that moment, "while I wish we had more time to talk, more time for me to tell you all the things I find fascinating and magical about your daughter and more time to figure out what she's told you about _me_, she's in trouble, and I'm guessing that's why you're here," I noted, taking in the fear-filled expression on Thor's face. I could tell that the fear ran deeper than the uncertainty surrounding Eva's fate, but it wasn't the best time to discuss what that was.

With a nod of approval from Aaldir, I closed the headpiece up once more, and Jarvis' voice sounded throughout the suit, "I ran a thorough check on the compound, but I've found no traces of Killian or Eva. It appears he left with her," he informed me, his proper, emotionless voice somehow managing to convey some amount of fear. Eva and Jarvis managed to have a healthy banter whenever she was around. She treated him as if he was just as human as the rest of us, and his disembodied voice was far more chipper when she was around. It was my first real hint that Jarvis was more than what I created him to be.

I nodded my head, "thanks for checking that, Jarvis. Do we know where they're going?" I asked

He was silent for a moment as Thor and Aaldir looked between each other. After working the magic he was known for, Jarvis piped back up, "I have the location marked for you and have figured the fastest possible route."

I glanced between the two Gods, "it's time to go save a princess."

* * *

***Eva's POV***

It was time. It was finally time to give in. The pain was unbearable. Even though the serum was healing the wounds Killian inflicted, I still felt the pain, and the fire burning beneath my skin only felt like it was accelerating the rate at which the wound on my abdomen was killing me. Perhaps it was the end. I wondered what it would be like before it happened. I'd had brushes with death, but this felt like it was the last brush. This felt like I was finally going to meet the woman I'd dreamed of for so long. Maybe I'd finally get my answers. Maybe I'd finally know for sure if the visions were true, if she was where I belonged, if she was who I belonged _to_. So many pieces of me tried to hold on, tried to fight the way the darkness pulled me in. I tried to remember those beautiful moments. Perhaps if I held on as tightly as I could, they would keep me afloat in the storm, but the life felt like it was being sucked out of me. I was going to drown. No matter how many memories I grasped onto, I would sink.

As my eyes fluttered closed, the darkness swallowed me, cooling my fiery hot skin. Letting go was the peaceful part, but mourning what could have been would prove to be the difficult part. For the time being, I could just exist in the void, finding peace for as long as I possibly could. I was, for a moment, _nothing_. I was neither dead nor alive. I was neither happy nor sad. I was just _nothing_, and that was where I found tranquility. For the first time in such a long time, there was no responsibility, no fear, no sense of duty, no sorrow. I was free. It was as if every worldly weight had been removed from my shoulders, and I was left like a weightless cloud just floating in the atmosphere. It was the first time I truly let go. I fought it until I couldn't fight it anymore, until it felt like this was what was meant to be. Perhaps my death on Midgard was inevitable, but I never imagined I'd die alone. I wasn't alone, though. I had the essence of life lingering within me, and I'd have to mourn that loss as well.

When I opened my eyes, I was laying in the grass. The gentle breeze carried the sweet smell of the leaves and trees through the forest. The green surrounding me was far more pure than I'd ever witnessed in my life, almost as if my vision of Asgard had finally come to life in my death. The grass beneath me felt so real, like I was home once more. Light laughter-_small_ laugher-echoed from beyond the tree line that separated the meadow I was in from the rest of the forest. The tree of life and death sat in the center of the meadow, and I listened to those beautiful giggles growing closer and closer, small voices accompanying them. Then, I heard him. Loki. I sat up and watched as the colors grew even more vibrant with the sound of his heartwarming laughter. There was a golden glow to everything around me, including the tree. As I gazed up at the red and white petals, I remembered the words Thor had told me about them.

_Death itself planted this tree beneath the biggest star in the night sky, and her tears watered the sapling. No one touched the sapling from that moment on, but it still grew and brought up the most beautiful forest in the Nine Realms with it. The red flowers symbolized the violence and bloodshed of death, and the white represented the purity and innocence of all life at the beginning. The reason why it never withers is because these two forces have danced together since the beginning of the universe, and it will continue long after you and I cease to exist_.

Just as his words were refreshed in my memory, a small white flower from the tree landed on my lap. It was impossible. Ever since I can remember, none of the flowers had fallen from the tree. Loki and I checked every single day to find that none of them had wilted and fallen in the night. The tree never parted with the beautiful flowers in all my life, but now...of all times, it began to die. I stared up to see that white flowers began wilting and falling from the tree, landing in the grass beneath me. Still, I couldn't help but feel calm. The laughter in the forest grew even closer, giggles filling my heart with joy and a sense of bittersweetness. This wasn't real. This was my life's way of letting go of all that could have been. It was time for me to mourn the person I could've become, the future I wouldn't have.

Loki finally appeared from the tree line, and the sight took my breath away. In his arms, he held a child, a boy with my hair and his eyes. It was the opposite of what we always spoke of, of what we anticipated, but following him were the children we spoke of. Some of them had his hair and my eyes, some had my hair and his eyes. Beautiful girls and boys who laughed and radiated the essence of life I felt every time I connected with the natural world. One of the girls had his thin lips, another had my freckles, one of the boys had his wild black hair, one of the girls had wild red hair, like the essence of fire was born within her very soul. They were...perfect. They were beautiful. They were the embodiment of every ounce of happiness I'd ever felt in my life. When my eyes caught one set of vibrant green ones, my heart stopped beating. Her hair was the darkest black I'd ever seen in all my life, far darker than Loki's. It was like the midnight sky if the stars and the moon refused to shine, but I could find the galaxy in her eyes. My breath caught in my throat as her every movement came to a complete standstill. She was no longer playing with the others. Instead, our eyes remained locked on one another until the most serene, bittersweet smile spread across her face, almost as if she knew-as I did-what this was. It was almost as if she was completely aware that I was dying, that I wouldn't know this future.

"Amara!" Loki called out, gazing into the woods until another girl, who looked to be slightly younger than some but older than others, pranced out of the woods. A crown of twigs and flowers rested delicately atop her head, and she looked like me. She had my hair, my eyes, the light dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks. The moment I saw her, my breath was taken away. Following her was Harley and Kaia, looking not a day older, "you're just like your mother!" Loki laughed as our other children continued to play. There were...many of them, many more than I anticipated, but Loki and I always spoke of potentially having a large family. It would create a strong lineage, and we had more than enough love to spread.

Loki's eyes caught mine in the midst of them playing, and I felt my heart burst with joy as I saw just how happy he was. This would never become our reality. I'd never be able to give Loki this joy. Maybe he'd move on and find someone else, but I knew better than that. He'd be close behind me, just as I would've been close behind him. This scene-this hauntingly beautiful dream-would never belong to us. He ran over to me, his body moving with just as much grace as I remembered. Falling into the grass beside me, he spoke no words before leaning in to press his lips to mine, our kiss filled with that same tender love that had always been there. Passion bled into each of us, and it all felt so real. When he pulled away from the kiss, he lingered, his forehead pressed against my own and our noses brushing against each others. He smiled, his lips brushing against my own, a feeling I'd never be able to shake even in death. He craned his neck, turning his crystal blue eyes over to them, "whenever I look at them, I think about how wonderful it is that we managed that, that we created this," he murmured, his voice soft enough so that his words would remain between the two of us.

I gazed at them, the most frighteningly divine beauty that made it impossible to look away. Every ounce of them was every ounce of _me_. The love I felt for them was overpowering. I knew not the names of each of the incredible works of art before me, but I _knew_ them. I knew their souls. The stardust coursed through their veins as it had Loki and I. We were joined together. The mere thought of them brought tears to my eyes, and I nodded, "they're beautiful," I noted, my bottom lip quivering as the sense of loss began to set in. It was a slow burn, but it was a burn nonetheless. I was hoping the process of mourning them would be quick and painless, just like death was. The moments preceding my death, my gentle fade out of existence, were filled with tears and pain, but the dying part...that was calming. Once the initial panic wore off, I was swallowed into the void, and it was over. The pain ended, and death claimed me. I hoped that the grief I would feel for a life lost would go by just as quickly.

Loki's smile helped prolong my freedom from the grief for a bit longer, "they get that from you," he fawned over me. His words made me snort and reach out to hit his arm playfully.

"Eva," that all-too-familiar voice rang out from behind me. It was the one I'd only heard in my visions, the disembodied one I heard in the forest the night I found Aria. It was the one my heart knew even when my mind didn't. I craned my neck around to see her standing behind me, at the edge of the forest where the meadow ended. Behind her, where the forest had merely been a dense area of woods, it was black. I couldn't see the first line of trees. It was as black as her eyes, as dark as the hair that cascaded like a waterfall over her shoulders. Two of the girls had that hair, and while one of them had my eyes, the other looked like the woman standing before me.

Death.

* * *

***Loki's POV***

The space in my heart that she had once taken up was completely empty, and all the pain died away in an instant. There was an emptiness that had never been there in all my years. Even when I had fallen from the Bifrost, even when Thanos tried to pull her memory from me, there was always just a pain in the place I had once held her. _This_ was different. This was nothingness. It was as if the thread that bound us together had been broken, the thread made of stardust that she spoke of. It was like losing a piece of myself. It felt as if someone had taken the very heart from my chest, and all that was left was vacant space. Part of me knew what happened, but the other part of me couldn't even think the words. It was typical, though. This was what happened each time I found an ounce of happiness: it was torn from my arms. This was my punishment. This was how I would be forced to atone for my past mistakes. For all the lives I took, for all the hatred and destruction that I left in my wake, for all the rage that consumed me, _this_ was what was taken from me: _everything_.

Eva, my light, my love, my life, my princess, my world...she was..._gone_.

The thought alone made it feel like my chest was collapsing, like my body would crumble until there was nothing left but ashes and dust. I didn't want her to leave Asgard the previous night. I didn't want her to go back to Midgard. Something within me wanted to beg her to stay, to forget about her responsibilities on Earth, but another part of me knew that when Eva had her mind set on something, she didn't give up. The humans were precious to both of us at one point, and Eva's love was never lacking when it came to them. She loved them all-every single human-with the same intensity as she loved her family and believed that with enough guidance, they could change. There were some throughout the years who disappointed her, who broke her heart, people who spread hatred and misery, death and destruction. Still, she saw all the goodness in humanity, and that goodness was embodied in the people she fought beside when I descended upon New York with an army.

Asking her to turn her back on Tony, a man we both loved since before he was even born, would be like asking her to plunge a knife through my heart. She couldn't do it. She couldn't bring herself to abandon him. If we had it our way, we would've brought Tony back to Asgard as a boy and raised him as our own. He was one of the people at the center of her universe, so when he was in need, she was there. Still, if I tried to fight her, maybe I could've won. A serenity fell over me in my moment of grief, and I knew it was the calm before the storm, the love before the madness consumed me like it had once. My eyes fluttered closed, and I saw her one last time, a smile on those full, delicate lips, a sparkle in those emerald green eyes, starlight clinging to her sun-kissed skin, a crown of flowers in her hair. If I had known our last time together was our last time, I would've kissed her an extra time, embraced her for a moment longer, listened to one more heartbeat. I would've done one more of everything, even though it would've never been enough.

_I love you more._

* * *

***Tony's POV***

_When I entered the tower, I was prepared for a showdown with Loki if Eva hadn't already taken him down. She had shown herself to be far more powerful than any of us could've imagined. She was a force to be reckoned with, and if Loki knew what was good for him, he would've backed down. Eva and I had connected as soon as I met her, almost as if I'd known her all my life. Within mere moments, she felt like family, and within days, she became my favorite person. She was passionate, loving, and kind. She gave each of us the benefit of the doubt, and all I could hope for was that she wasn't naive enough to give Loki that same courtesy. Once we found out that Tony had taken to the tower, Eva was the first to leave. Thor had been adamant that this was personal to Eva, and though I didn't fully understand it, I didn't want to be the one to stand in her way._

_The scene I found upon entering the tower I'd begun to view as my home was horrific. It was like a scene from my worst nightmare. Eva's body lay limp against the wall, and there was barely any life left in her. Her skin was pale, and she sat in a pool of her own blood, weakly clutching onto a wound on her side. Seeing her like that made my ears ring, made the world come crashing down around me. Memories that seemed like dreams came flooding back to me. I was sure it was only my mind's way of compensating for how deeply I felt for her. It was impossible for me to feel so much love for someone I had only known for days. It was impossible for me to love her more than I loved two of the most pivotal people in my life: my parents. I loved her like a child would love their mother, but there was no reasoning behind it. I didn't know her. I knew how she made me feel, though. I knew how complete I was when I was in her presence, how her mere gaze made me want to be a better man, how her touch comforted me to a point where I could open up about every insecurity, every fear, every __moment__. She was my person, the one everyone needed, and there she was, lying on the floor, moments away from lifelessness._

_My breath caught in my throat, and the world stopped turning for a moment. I couldn't breathe, think, or even hear my own heartbeat. I could do nothing but stand and stare at the sight in front of me. It was as if my body was trying to process the pain so that it could distribute it evenly when the time came. The realization hit me like a train. This was my fault. If I had gone with her, if I'd stopped her from leaving before I was ready to accompany her, we could've faced Loki together. When my body allowed me to move, I scrambled over to her, falling into the puddle of blood without a single care. My hands shook violently as I frantically tried to search her body to find where the blood was coming from. She tried to speak, but her voice was weak, and the ringing in my ears hadn't died away enough to hear that angelic voice. Pushing her hand away from the wound on her side, the blood she had been holding in seeped out and added to the puddle on the floor._

"_No, no, no," I panicked, trying to think of any way to fix this. This was what I did. I fixed things. Pulling myself together, my eyes caught a dish towel that would work better than my shirt when it came to soaking up the blood. As I tried to stand, I slipped in the blood and fell back to the floor, successfully catching myself on my hands and knees. Once I managed to scramble up onto my feet, I grabbed the towel and turned to see that she was slowly fading out of consciousness. If she fell asleep, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to wake her back up, "Eva, no! Open your eyes!" I insisted, falling back down onto the floor with her. I grimaced as I pressed the towel to her wound, knowing how much it would hurt her. She winced, but I half expected something more. I expected a cry of pain, a grunt, __anything__, but she buried her pain for me. I knew the moment our eyes met that she swallowed back her cries for me. She didn't want that to be a memory I had of her. Her breathing continued to slow, and I panicked even more. There was nothing I could do, but I tried to convince myself otherwise. Part of me wanted to accept that this was inevitable, but the other part of me couldn't let her go. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be over for her, not when I finally had happiness staring right at me. I shook my head, "I shouldn't have left you. I shouldn't have let you go alone!" I continued to panic, knowing that her death-should I not be able to save her-would be on me. How could I live with myself? How could I go on knowing what happiness felt like? How could I live without the light?_

"_It's not your fault. This isn't your fault," she repeated the words, trying to drive them into my mind. She knew. She knew the man I was, and she knew this would be on my conscience if I wasn't able to pull her back. I brushed the words off, not wanting to be distracted from the pressure I put onto her wound. She reached for my hand and pushed it away, bringing with it the towel that was slowly soaking itself in her vibrant red blood-the color of a bleeding rose, "Tony," she whispered, trying to get my attention, trying to get me to stop my desperate attempts to save her. She didn't understand what I'd be losing if I lost her, but I did. When I pushed past her hand and reapplied the pressure to her wound, she fought against me again._

"_Stop! I'm trying to save your life!" I snapped, glaring up at her, anger filling me. She didn't deserve my frustration, my shortness. She didn't deserve the harshness in my voice, but her insistence that I stop trying to save her was...mind-boggling. It was as if she was accepting it, but I needed her to fight. I needed her to deny death for as long as possible. I needed her to be alright. I needed __her__. I was drowning all my life, and she was my breath of fresh air. How, then, was I supposed to hold my head under the water again? How was I supposed to go back to the life I once knew? As the tears filled my eyes, she gazed up at me, sorrow and grief clear in hers. It wasn't for herself, though. The grief she felt was for me, almost as if she was finally understanding what it would do to me to lose her._

_A light smile-one with a beauty that would put the Aurora Borealis to shame-spread across her full lips, "there's nothing to save. This is it," she murmured, her voice soft as if it would ease the harsh nature of her words._

"_Don't say that! Let me do this!" I yelled, angry that she would willingly let go of her grip on life. My eyes scanned the room, and I looked for anything, any bandages or gauze, __anything__ that would save her. She couldn't leave me! I wouldn't let her die! She meant too much to me at that point. The moment our eyes met in Germany when she stood beside Steve, she became the answer to every unasked question, the light in the darkness, the dream in the nightmare, the joy in the misery, the comfort in the pain, the harmony in the dissonance, the beauty in the grotesque, the love in the hatred. She was the everything in the nothing. How could I lose her?_

"_Anthony," she whispered, her voice even weaker than the last time. No one called me Anthony. The only memories I had were from when I was a boy, and those memories were faded. I didn't even know who called me by that name, but her voice matched the memories so perfectly. I froze. One of her hands found mine, and she lowered it from the wound as her other hand trailed up to cup my cheek. I leaned into her touch that was still so warm even as her hands turned cold. The tears that I had been desperately trying to fight back finally fell, "every beginning has an end...this is mine. I'm not afraid. I know what waits for me on the other side of this," she mused as her eyes glazed over with memories I knew nothing of. She looked almost...happy? It was as if she was merely taking a trip back home._

"_But what about me?" I choked out through the lump in my throat. Her green eyes filled with a bittersweet sadness that was familiar to me. Like the sound of her voice, this was another part of her that felt like a distant, vague memory. I grasped the hand that held mine away from her, dropping the towel down into the blood beneath us, "our beginning was only a few days ago! What about the middle? We didn't have a long enough middle!" I cried, the tears falling at an alarming rate. Still, she kept up, wiping them away before they could fall too far._

_She gripped my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, "whenever you feel lonely...if you look up at the night sky, you'll find me there amongst the stars," she breathed out, her chest rising and falling at a slower pace. Her breaths were becoming more and more labored, and each one she pulled in, I was afraid it would be her last. Even if it was, it would kill me inside to watch her die, but at least she wouldn't go alone, I'd be by her side, holding her hand the whole way. Even after she took her final breath, I would have to be forcefully pulled from her body. I wouldn't leave her, "you may not always see me, but I'm always there. As long as you keep me in your heart...I'm never far away," she finished her speech, causing a flood of memories to wash over me. I knew her. I knew her voice, those words, that smile, those eyes. I knew her from what felt like another lifetime. I could see her sitting on the porch with me and dancing with my father in our living room to that old record. I could hear the static of the record when it ran out of music, but they continued to sway back and forth with each other. I could hear her singing me to sleep at night. I could remember fighting my sleep because she refused to leave until I was asleep, so if I didn't fall asleep, she would stay longer. Her voice sounded once more as she pulled in another shaky breath, tearing my focus from the memories that left me confused and shaken, "shadows are falling, and I'm running out of breath. Keep me in your heart for a while. If I leave you, it doesn't mean I love you any less. Keep me in your heart for a while," she sang that song, cementing her in my memory. I didn't know if it was just a trick that my mind was playing on me, but...I knew who she was. Whatever life essence she spoke of, ours were connected, and they had been since the very beginning._

"_I can't do this without you," I cried, leaning into her touch, wishing and praying to every being I didn't believe in that she would pull through, that I could have more time, "please don't leave me," I begged her, hoping that she could perform one last miracle and pull through._

_She smiled, "nothing-not even death-could part me from you."_

_It was my fault._

This was my fault.

I had been stopped dead in my tracks when we finally found her. Killian had been taken care of, but he refused to give us Eva's whereabouts. I had been hoping for a more fitting, painful end for him, but Thor, like Eva, didn't believe in making things suffer. I did. Thor didn't hear the way she screamed, didn't see her fresh blood on Killian's hands, didn't hear the sick and twisted things he had planned for her. I wanted him to suffer before he died, but when we finally found Eva, it was clear that if Thor had known what had happened to her, he would've hurt Killian in ways that no one had been hurt before. I couldn't move a single muscle once we came upon the lifeless, pale body of the woman we all loved. Aaldir sucked in a staggered breath and fell to his knees, his eyes never once leaving the body of his daughter, but Thor had rushed over to her, tearing off the clasps that held her in place and lowering her body down onto the ground gingerly. He was far more gentle than I ever knew him to be, but I knew why.

I saw her. _One Mississippi._ Blood covered her-now porcelain-skin, the bleeding rose tainting the body of the woman I loved so deeply. _Two Mississippi_. My ears began ringing the moment Thor let out a powerful yell. _Three Mississippi_. His blue eyes that glowed with the lightning in his veins turned up to the sky as tears streamed down his cheeks and caught themselves in his well-kept beard. _Four Mississippi_. Had Eva not been...she would've wiped them away. _Five Mississippi_. He fell to his knees at her side, pulling her limp, fragile body into his massive arms. _Six Mississippi_. She looked like a princess, like sleeping beauty. _Seven Mississippi_. Thor cradled her head against his chest, weeping over her as if that would be enough to bring her back. _Eight Mississippi_. My eyes found Aaldir. _Nine Mississippi_. His eyes never left his daughters face. _Ten Mississippi_. No tears had been shed, but his body hadn't moved either. _Eleven Mississippi_. He was more still than the marble statues men made throughout history. _Twelve Mississippi_. What if I didn't look back at her? _Thirteen Mississippi_. Would it be real if I closed my eyes and refused to look? _Fourteen Mississippi_.

My eyes found her face one last time, and everything faded back to me, but it was louder than before. Thor's desperate pleas for her to open her eyes were loud enough to burst my eardrums. Everything seemed to be too loud, too fast, too _everything_. There was nothing _but_ questions, darkness, misery, _pain_. As the sounds bled back in, that was when the weight of the situation finally sunk in, and I wondered if it was too late to trade my life for hers. I scrambled over to her body, and Thor, sensing how great this loss was for me, allowed me to hold her in my arms. I wrapped her in my embrace, but I knew that no matter how tightly I held her, it wouldn't be enough to make her stay. This time, she would leave, but she wouldn't come back. She died...alone.

As the grief tore through me, I rocked back and forth with her lifeless, cold body in my arms, "Eva!" I shouted, tears blurring my vision of her beautiful, peaceful face. She looked like a porcelain doll, "Eva, please don't leave me. Don't leave me!" I cried, brushing her dark brown hair back, tucking it behind her ear as I always had. I shook my head, "don't go! Wake up! Please just wake up!" I sobbed, burying my face into her hair. The smell of blood mixed with the smell of the warm summer breeze that maneuvered the trees of the forest, carrying the smell of life upon it. She always smelled fresh, clean, untainted. I tried to commit it to memory one last time, "I'm sorry, Eva. I'm so sorry."

A firm hand on my shoulder comforted me in a way only Eva's had, and when I realized it was Aaldir's, I knew where she got it from. His grasp was firm but gentle, and when our eyes met, I saw how willing he was to comfort me even in his despair. His face was wet with tears as he stared down at her, and even though I couldn't fathom a pain worse than my own, I knew that he was one of the few people who felt this loss deeper than I ever could, "she's all I have," I wept, my eyes flickering over to Thor, hoping that there was something he'd be able to do, hoping that there was some strange Asgardian "magic" that I couldn't channel the way he could. He clenched his jaw tightly, his eyes still not leaving the angelic face of the woman in my arms, "there has to be something. I can't..._she can't be dead!_ It was supposed to be me! It should've been me!"

When those blue eyes finally met mine, Thor saw my desperation. As the memories of her danced across his eyes, I watched as his grief manifested itself into anger, and he let out a feral yell. He looked up to the sky, raising Mjolnir toward the dark clouds that were merging together, and in his glowing blue eyes, I could see that he was hoping for one last miracle.

* * *

***Eva's POV***

Loki's presence beside me couldn't be felt anymore, and the laughter died instantaneously. As soon as my eyes met Death's, the joy and light was ripped from me. I scrambled up onto my feet, feeling weak in her presence. This was the woman I'd only ever seen in visions, and now, she stood before me-the essence of everything I fought against in my life, but I still couldn't help the unsung urge to run to her. When I looked back to find my family, I saw that they had been swallowed up by another darkness. Loki and the children had all disappeared, and it felt like what life had done to me time and time again. It gave and the moment I looked away, the dream stopped, and I woke up to nothing. There was never enough time. My gaze fell back on her again, "where are they?" I asked, my voice trembling as the white flowers continued to fall.

Death's eyes found the clear sky, almost as if she were searching for the gentlest words to convey the harsh reality, "they became what they once were-a future you won't get to see if you come with me," she explained, her voice like a hauntingly beautiful song. It was delicate, but it was followed by a darkness, "you are being given the chance to see what you could have if you fight...if you _live_. The time has not come for you, my sweet. It never will if you fight hard enough."

I shook my head, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion, as she closed the space between us, bringing the darkness with her. It surrounded her like a mist, crawling right behind her to consume everything. Her skin was fair, a stark contrast to her raven eyes and hair. The closer she got to me, though, the more beautiful she appeared, "I don't know what you mean, and I don't know who you are," I lied. While I wanted to believe differently, the visions I had were more than realistic. I knew exactly who she was and what she was to _me_, but I refused to believe it until I knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that she was where my life began.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that you do not already know," she instructed me, her body right in front of me. Not a single imperfection was upon her skin, and I was enthralled by her for a moment. This felt like the place I belonged. I knew, in that moment, without the shadow of a doubt, that she was my beginning, and she would also be my end. While I didn't want to believe it, while I wanted to deny it, cry and scream for it to be different, a part of me had always known. She had been an unchanging melody in the background of my life since the start, and even though I wanted to hate her for all she represented-all she took from me-I could do nothing but gaze upon her beauty.

"Mother," I murmured, my voice trembling like a leaf in the warm summer breeze.

The question I'd been asking my entire life had been answered. Seeing the tears brimming my eyes, she gave a simple, regal nod, not wanting to scare me, "and _you_ were my greatest joy, my greatest accomplishment, the only beautiful thing I ever gave to the world, my daughter, my _everything_. I was blessed with two little souls-so delicate, so _ethereal_. Twin stars that I thought were destined to be mine. I believed that you and Ezra were to be my redemption, but fate forced my hand," she explained, confirming my worst fear: Ezra wasn't lying. That meant...more than what I was prepared for. My father. No. She saw the fear in my eyes and moved closer to me, reaching out and resting the palm of her cold hand against my cheek. Instinctively, I leaned into her touch, and it felt...right.

"Like me, he is a vile, resentful creature with a heart so black it could make the night look like the dawn. He has fulfilled his purpose, though. His destiny was to bring about our two children, and _your_ destiny is still yet to be decided. Your destiny is not found in us, your destiny is found within _you_. That's what you've been missing all your life, little one," she said, almost as if she could see right through me. It was like she could see every fear, every insecurity I had, and she was putting it to sleep. I had searched for more than a thousand years to find her because I thought she could give me the meaning of my life. I thought she'd be able to answer every question I ever had. She was, after all, where I was meant to be. However, when I found out that the woman who gave me life was the embodiment of all I had fought against, all I had feared and loathed, I feared that I was destined to become like her. I feared that my destiny was to spread death and destruction. I feared that I'd become a person my past self wouldn't be able to recognize.

Her eyes became impossibly darker, but I found even more comfort in them. My bottom lip quivered as I tried to hold back the tears that had gone unshed for all my life. I never cried when I was lost. I could remember how often I found myself deep in the forest, not knowing which way pointed toward home, but I never shed tears. All my life, it felt like I had been missing from myself, like I was a lost child just waiting to be found. It felt like I never belonged. I knew that I belonged with Loki, but there was a sense that I never knew who I was. There was this constant longing to be found by the people who gave up on me. Now, I stood before her with questions that needed answers, "why did you leave me?"

There wasn't a single change in her expression. She still looked enthralled by me, as if she could possibly be mystified by a common Asgardian. I was nothing special. Still, she looked at me as if she was seeing the sunrise for the first time. I expected her to be angry or hurt-maybe even shocked-at the question I posed, but the abundance of..._love_ in her eyes drowned out every other emotion, "when I discovered I was pregnant, your lives came before anything else. For the first time since the _beginning_ of time, I wasn't just Death, I was the bearer of _life_. Your father, Cul, was obsessed with war, destruction, chaos, and rage. Before I discovered I was with child, I saw things in a similar light, but the light within me that radiated from you and your brother, it was...life-altering. I saw myself in a more sensitive, empathetic way. I no longer saw myself as this vial monster who needed to thrive off of suffering. Instead, I viewed death as just the natural progression of life, and we would continue our dance for all of eternity."

"Knowing your father for as long as I did, I knew that he would try to taint both of you, to use you as his weapons. After all, you two were bound to be far more powerful than either of us could've envisioned. He would have used you and Ezra to further his plans to spread destruction and ruin across the universe. It was the opposite of what I wanted for you, so I brought you to Asgard-his original home and the place he was banished from. I hoped it would be a safe haven for the two of you. It was the same visit I planted this tree," she said, reaching out and running her fingers along the smooth bark of the tree of life and death, "I left you because I thought it would be what was best for you, and I think I made the right decision. Shortly after promising to keep you safe, Odin betrayed his word and gave your brother back to Cul. Cul took this as an act of peace, but he began raising Ezra to be his warrior. He raised Ezra to be the opposite of what I knew he would become, of what you _did _become."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "what do you mean?"

"Do you know what the leaves symbolize?" she asked instead of answering my question. Sensing that I didn't want to answer until my question had been answered, she explained the meaning of the leaves to me just as Thor once had, "the red symbolizes violence, bloodshed, hatred, fear, pain, grief, and anguish. In the simplest of terms, the red leaves represent death. The white, on the other hand represents purity, innocence, rebirth, serenity, love, and peace. In the simplest of terms, the white flowers symbolize life. It's the dance you and I have taken part in since the beginning of time, a dance you have never forgotten the steps to. It's a melody you know in the deepest depths of your heart. Death and Life, Life and Death."

"I don't know what you're getting at," I sighed, feeling like she was speaking a foreign tongue to me. I didn't understand what she meant.

She reached out her hand as one of the white flowers fell from the branches. It landed in her palm, and it immediately began to decay, the petals turning black and grey. Before long, it had disintegrated to nothing but a pile of ash, "this is what I am. I am Death. I bring about destruction and decay. I am the keeper of the dead. _This_ is what I am. This is what you can become," she stressed, holding out her hand for me to get one more look at the pile of black ash that had once been a beautiful white flower. She gestured for me to hold out my hand, and she tipped the ashes into my palm. Just as quickly as it took the flower to disintegrate in her palm, I watched as the ashes began to form back together and brighten, becoming a flower once more. I watched it bloom before my own eyes, feeling a rush of emotions. This wasn't possible. Just as the thought crossed my mind, Death shook her head, "it's _very_ possible. Just as I am Death, you are Life. _This_ is who you _are_," she insisted, gesturing to the flower that had bloomed even further as it sat in the palm of my hand.

"It doesn't make sense!"

She tilted her head, "or does it?" she challenged me, "you have felt yourself connect to the very essence of the planets you've visited, bending them to your will. You have seen the way life and nature thrive in your presence in a way it doesn't in any other circumstance. You have seen how your very mood can affect everything around you. You feel it, don't you?" she asked. My heart thudded in my chest. She couldn't know. I had spoken of it to no one. I opened my mouth to speak, to argue with her, but no words came to my aid. In an attempt to put a halt to the fear within me, her voice softened, "I am your mother. I know you. I know that life has called upon you once again, my child. Are you willing to forfeit that?"

I was quiet.

In any other circumstance, I would've fought harder to stay alive, but a part of me wished for this. A part of me just wanted to rest, to stop fighting, to stop worrying, to be with my brother in death. Even though Hjalmar wasn't my blood, he was my brother. I wanted to be with the friends who had gone before me, who had taken the journey before I was ready to. They paved my way, and now, I found myself so close to all I had lost. I'd see Howard again. He'd probably be waiting with that dusty record to play our song, and he'd pull me into his arms as we'd dance around the living room. I'd sit with Charlotte as she mumbled ideas to herself, frantically writing them down before meeting my eyes with a playful grin and letting me read them. I could hug Maria once more, feel the joy and love within her from just a single embrace. I could see Bucky again. I would meet him at that dance hall, and he'd hold me in his strong embrace, reminding me of the warmth I'd be missing until Loki arrived. He would hold me close, and we'd sway back and forth with one another, my eyes fluttering closed as I rested my cheek against his shoulder, listening intently for that ever present heartbeat that could lull me to sleep. That time, though, there would be no more goodbye's in our future. I'd have more than just our last memory to hold onto, more than just his lifeless form in the snow to remember. I'd have him again.

In my silence, tears welled up in her eyes, "you cannot stay here," she claimed, but I knew she was wrong. I was already dead. Life had left me. It wasn't a matter of not being able to stay here, but it was a matter of: do I fight to return? Do I fight to return to what I had in life? Or do I give in to the peace and serenity of death and wait until I am reunited with all I had left behind? Do I give up on the person I would become to remind myself of who I once was-what I once _had_? As a black tear cascaded down her cheek, she gazed up at the branches of the tree. My eyes followed hers, and I saw that there was only a small amount of white flowers still left on the tree compared to the abundance of red ones, "it symbolizes the death of Life itself," she murmured, her gaze finally landing on me. Every ounce of pain I'd ever felt seemed to pale in comparison to the pain and grief in her eyes. The blackness acted as a mirror into the depths of her soul, and I saw every piece of her-the good and the bad, the beautiful and the wretched, the brutal and the gentle, the selfishness and the selflessness.

Her arms wrapped around my waist, and she pulled me close to her, a moment of bittersweetness. I melted into her embrace, and it felt...right. I threw my arms around her neck, grasping onto her as tightly as possible. In a life that was filled with questions, she was my answer. It didn't feel like I was embracing Death, the entity I blamed for all the sorrow I felt leaving the battlefield or the entity I abhorred for taking my loved ones away from me time and time again. Instead, I was embracing my mother, the being who gave life to me, the woman who, by giving me life, allowed for me to experience the greatest joys life had to offer. I had loved so fiercely, so deeply, so endlessly. I had fought time and time again as courageously as I could. I had _lived_ fiercely, without fear of death. She made that possible by giving me life and by sacrificing hers. I knew the pain of _forfeiting_, "you have no idea how long I've waited to hold you in my arms again, how many nights I've wished for you to be mine once more, how endless my pain is when I remember that I have always been the worst thing for you. You don't belong here, Eva, no matter how sorely I wish you did," she stated, pulling away from the embrace to cup my face in her hands, stroking my cheeks with her thumbs and wiping away the tears that began to fall the moment hers did.

My bottom lip quivered as I stared at a face so beautiful, I wondered if I'd ever be able to appreciate the sunrise again, "you have always been and always will be the most beautiful contradiction, little one: Life born of Death. For eternity, I have been forced to take and take and take from this breathtaking universe, and I was finally able to give in the form of you and your brother. There is goodness within him, Eva, and you're the only one who can bring it out. You two are meant to bring about a great change, to tip the scales in one direction, and _you_ get to decide. You will either be tainted by him and bring about the Great Annihilation, or he will be purified by you and bring about the Great Rebirth. Either way, you are not meant to be here. You and I were made to contradict the other, and just as I understand you, I hope that you will someday understand me. I am no longer the wicked creature that steals away your loved ones, I guide them into what comes next. I don't find pleasure in the pain of others, but I feel joy when I can welcome them back into eternity. We are destined to continue our dance forever, my little love. Life and Death. Death and Life."

"Let me come home," I begged, thinking of all I'd have should she let me rest.

"You understand what you'd be leaving behind, what you'd be giving up to regain what you have lost?" she asked, fearful of my willingness to accept what she alone could offer me. She stepped away from me, breaking our connection. Her eyes scanned the meadow behind me, and she gestured for me to turn around.

Behind me stood all the love I'd be leaving if I stayed. While I had been thinking solely of what I could have back should I embrace my death, I failed to see the faces of those I would burden with my death. Bruce, Clint, Natasha, Steve, and Tony stood perfectly still. I wanted to run to them, but when I saw the sadness in their eyes, I couldn't even bring myself to move. Tony had already lost so much already, how could I ask him to lose me, too? I was the last connection Steve had to the man he once was, and he was one of my greatest friends. They disappeared, revealing Ephinea, Frigga, Thor, and Aaldir, the only father I'd ever accept. How could I force my father to live with my death? How could I ask him to lose Hjalmar and I in such a short period of time? How could I break his soul so deeply? When they disappeared, Harley and Kaia took their places. They placed every ounce of their faith and love in me, and I would be leaving them so quickly. Then, there was Loki, my life, my love, my everything. He would understand, but...he shouldn't have to understand this. We weren't meant to lose each other, we were meant to go together. When Loki disappeared, the love I forfeited appeared in his place.

_Loving her was my greatest weakness, and leaving her was my greatest failure._

_Her._


	24. The Greatest Weakness

***Loki's POV***

_She had already begun tangling her bare body in the covers, and I smiled down at her, still pressing kisses against glowing, sun-kissed skin. The light from the moon and stars seeped into the room from the balcony, but I dared not gaze up at their magnificence for fear that the goddess in my chambers would disappear the moment my eyes left her sleeping form. The past weeks, Eva had seemingly grown even more beautiful than before, which I thought to be impossible. Her skin would glow under the midday sun on our strolls through the garden. Her eyes were a more vibrant green, and she visited the sweet shop in the village nearly every day, dragging me along with her. She would spend just as much time in there as we had as children when Aaldir would give her a small bag of coins and send us out into the village to spend them as we pleased. As children, we spent so much time roaming the aisles of the small shop, racks of sweets lining the wall from the floor to the ceiling. Even then, I found more pleasure watching the reflection of the sweets in her eyes than choosing for the ones I wanted._

_In our more recent visits to the same shop, she would stand closer to me, allowing me to wrap my arms around her when she stopped to gaze at the hundreds of choices. When I would press a kiss to the top of her head, her laugh was sweeter than every piece of candy in the little shop combined. The shopkeeper hadn't asked for any payment, no matter how much Eva insisted. All he did was smile and politely decline the payment. It happened each and every time, the smile only growing as time passed. She looked to be filled with more happiness and life than ever before, but I attributed that to the current hopefulness that I had been feeling. Eva and I were tied to each other, our individual moods directly impacting the others. I had recently spoken with her father once again, just as I had so many years prior, and I kept the ring my mother had forged for the occasion close. Hjalmar and I had spoken to each other recently about my upcoming proposal, but all that was left was the conversation I would have with my father the following day._

_Then, I wouldn't have to hide the ring any longer, and she would be its new keeper._

_I pressed one last kiss to her bare shoulder before untangling our bodies and slipping my body from her tight grasp. She shifted as I rose from the bed, and I froze in place, hoping that it wouldn't wake her up. She had been fatigued more often than not lately, so I was even more careful to not disturb her rest. Once she found another comfortable position, she let out a deep sigh before falling even deeper into her peaceful slumber. I rose from the bed, pulling on some clothes to maintain my modesty. Usually, I would've taken the sheets, but she was so tangled up in them that if I had tried to slip them from her, she would have woken up. Rising to my feet, clad in nothing more than a pair of loose-fitting trousers, I walked over to the desk her father had made for me long before. Within the top drawer, the ring had been hidden within a stack of papers between the first poem she ever wrote for me and the first poem I'd ever written for her. That had been where our love blossomed, and the ring symbolized the new journey our love would embark on._

_Reaching for it, I pulled it out, once more admiring the craftsmanship of it. All I did was tell my mother what I wanted, and she saw to it that it was created in my image. Every night after we made love, I'd find the ring, debating on whether or not to ask for her hand time and time again. It was the purest act of love, and the intensity of my emotions drove me to the point of wanting to ask her to marry me each night. I stared down at the ring, feeling the butterflies in my chest, knowing that my proposal would happen the following day after my discussion with my father. While he had never been partial to me, I had so much hope that he would see how happy she made me, and maybe that would be enough. I knew the words I wanted to say to her when I asked her to marry me. I'd been rehearsing them since the day we met as children. Even as a child, I knew that there would come a day when I would make her my princess, that she would someday be my wife. Throughout the years, the individual paths of our lives merged and become one and the same._

_Knowing how quickly she could wake up and see the surprise that was meant for the next day, I placed the ring back in its hiding spot before padding over to the balcony. I had spent my whole life rehearsing the words I would say to Eva when I asked her to be mine, but I hadn't given much thought to how I would ask my father. I'd asked everyone else in our lives, everyone else who was close to Eva. My father, however, was the deciding force. What would I say to him? How would I approach such a question? Was it customary for me to come out and ask him? Would it have been too formal? Did he want me to approach him as the Allfather or as __my__ father? Would it have been too inappropriate to tell him how deeply my love ran for her, how it was a part of my very being? Should I show him what I had tried to hide for so long-the side of me who was enthralled by a woman who was deemed a "peasant?"_

_As I lost myself deep in thought, I didn't feel her approaching warmth until those slender arms wrapped around my waist, "why do you stand out here all alone with your thoughts?" she asked, clearly having sensed some of my uncertainty and distress. I knew that my movement hadn't woken her up, but it never took very long for her to feel my absence and crawl out of bed to find me. She pressed her soft lips to my back, pressing the gentlest kisses against my skin before I turned around and wrapped my arms around her body. Gods, she was so delicate, so soft, so warm. Forcing a smile, no matter how badly I wanted to, would've been a futile attempt at covering up my anticipation for the following day. She could see right through me. Reaching up and cupping my cheek with one of her hands, she kept the other locked around my waist, continuing to hold us close, "I can carry this with you, you know," she reminded me._

"_I know you would, my love, but you also know me. I like to lose myself in my thoughts," I said, not technically lying to her but just not giving her every ounce of the truth. I had, in fact, been lost in thought, but it wasn't __nothing__ as I tried to insinuate it being. I leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips, knowing that it would be the only way to soothe her, to keep her from worrying that something was wrong. Melting into the kiss and melting further into my arms, my grasp tightened around her waist, keeping her body pressed against mine. While I had been the one to initiate the kiss, the gentle caress of her fingers on my jaw made me a slave to her. Her lips were intoxicating, leaving me dazed and euphoric each time I had even the slightest taste of them. When she pulled her lips from mine, I took our moment of silent reflection to plant a kiss to her forehead. She rested her head against my chest, her ear pressed to my heart to listen to the steady rhythm. She had taken the sheet with her when she left the bed, and it was wrapped around her like a makeshift dress, "I checked on Tony earlier today," I noted, remembering what I'd forgotten to tell her earlier._

"_And what did Heimdall say?" she asked, gazing out at the beautiful horizon._

_I frowned, knowing that my words would only cause her heart to grow heavy, but I couldn't keep it from her. Heimdall was usually much gentler with her. He would give me the facts, no matter how difficult they were to process, and I'd relay them to her as gently as possible. She was strong enough to handle them, but he couldn't bring himself to break her heart, "he's still having nightmares. His captivity is still fresh even though it's been months. He may need you again soon," I answered, knowing that if she could, she would leave immediately to be with him, but that wasn't what was best for him. If she was so protective over Tony, I wondered how fiercely she'd love our future children. The thoughts excited me, but they also concerned me. She had proven time and again that she would sacrifice her life for Tony, and bringing more people into the fold could prove to be dangerous._

"_I fear that my presence is putting an even greater burden on him," she sighed, airing out the thoughts in her mind. She never tried to keep things from me, as there was never a need to do so. We shared __everything__-aside from the obvious surprise that I had for her. I felt the conflict growing within her as she continued to process my words, her emotions fluctuating between the uncertainty, sorrow, and guilt, "each time I return, I give him the memories back so that he'll let me comfort him, but each time I leave, I have to take those memories away once more. I fear it's causing him more distress in the long run. What if I'm the worst thing for him?"_

_I shook my head, "you're his person, Eva, just as you are mine. You guide him through these turbulent times in his life, and, even though he doesn't remember how he made it through, it's because you were by his side," I argued, understanding her hesitation and worries. All we ever wanted was what was best for him. We both had deep connections to Howard and Maria, but neither of us expected just how much we would fall in love with Tony when he came along. Seeing Eva with him, the day he was born, made me realize just how deeply I desired a family with her. He had been crying up until the moment Howard handed him over to Eva, and that was the moment they clicked. He became the closest thing we had to a child, and we both cherished him. She always tread so lightly when it pertained to things of that nature, decisions that involved him. When she made the choice to wipe his memory of us, it was what was best for him. I could remember the way she cried that night, the way she secluded herself from everyone, even me. She had been so heartbroken, so devastated. Each time she returned from seeing Tony, it was something similar, almost like she was losing him all over again. Then, there were times when I knew she couldn't do it, so I would go in her place, "do you want me to go with you this time?"_

"_I'll visit him tomorrow when you speak with your father," she replied, swallowing back the lump in her throat that always showed up when we spoke of Tony. She was a worrier, and she placed the most important people in her life at the center of her universe. I was lucky enough to be a part of that group, and so was Tony. The subject was a touchy one, but she managed to pull through with nothing more than a few tears and some rampant emotions that she'd be able to contain quickly. Clearing her throat, she pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, "for now, though, come back to bed with me," she urged, reaching for one of my hands and intertwining our fingers before pulling me back into my chambers, the cool midnight breeze carrying us back to the bed we shared._

_I took my spot in the bed first, upon her unspoken request. She waited until I crawled into the bed and found a comfortable position before she curled up with me, nestling her body into my warmth. We laid in silence as she listened to the steady beating of my heart. She was anxious. I felt it. She was lost in thought about the outcome of tomorrow, just as I had been, but we were anxious for separate reasons. The way she clung to me was the way I would end up clinging to her in the middle of the night, holding onto the only thing that ever felt real but also the only thing that ever felt so perfect that it could've very well been a dream. Her fingers danced along my bare chest, tracing letters and shapes into my skin, "I love you, Loki, you know that, right?" she asked like it was possible for me to forget. It was hard to believe sometimes, but I never forgot or doubted her. She never gave me any reason to do so. Still, in those moments of uncertainty, she often pegged it on herself, as if she was somehow failing at showing me all the love I didn't deserve. _

"_And I love you more," I replied, using the words we always did. It was especially moving when we rode off into battle together. She'd bring her pale white horse up to mine and lean over to kiss me, pulling me into our own silent moment before the chaos of battle ensued, and she'd tell me that she loved me. My response was always the same: I love you more._

_She propped herself up on her elbow, her brown curls cascading across my chest. Her emerald eyes were filled with hope and a hint of desperation. She knew that something was off. It was impossible to hide my troubled mind from her because we could feel the change in each other as if it were a change within ourselves, "please, then, open up to me. I can see that something is on your mind. Something is plaguing you. You should know by now that nothing you say will make me love you any less," she reminded me, her words being ones that comforted me._

_Still, I couldn't tell her what troubled me. I couldn't tell her how nervous I was about asking my father for his blessing to propose to her. Unlike everything in my life, this wasn't something I could share with her. Instead, I just grinned up at her, "I was just wondering which of our future children will manage to steal the covers more than you do!" I teased her._

_The smile that spread across her lips was enough to wash away every ounce of my anxiety. I no longer cared about my upcoming talk with my father. I no longer flitted through the possible scenarios, which only frightened me even more. When she was with me, looking at me the way she did, I couldn't think of anything else __but__ her. I treated every glimpse I had of her like it was my last, like she was my final breath of sweet air before I parted this life. An angelic laugh escaped her lips, "oh, you're one to speak!" she playfully pushed my arm._

_Looking up into those eyes, those captivating, wonder-filled eyes, it finally dawned on me. Solemnity fell over me as she continued to smile. I questioned what great deeds I had done to be blessed with a woman more regal than a queen, sweeter than a lady, more delicate than a flower, more radiant than a star, more powerful than an army. It was the moment I saw our future in her eyes, and I was __excited__, "I want them to be like you."_

_She furrowed her eyebrows, tears rising to her eyes like they always had when we talked of our future children, a family I was more than ready to start immediately, "and what's so wrong with you? Why can't they be like their father?" she asked._

"_I don't want them to be like me, not with all I've done," I voiced my insecurities._

_Eva didn't even need to hear my words in order to silence my doubts. The pained look in her eyes when I spoke was enough to make me rethink the words that had just been upon my lips. She spoke, "we've both done things we're not proud of. We've both taken lives on the battlefield, and no matter how worthy a cause we were fighting for, we left pieces of our innocence there. You and I have both made mistakes, but your light still shines so bright, Loki. I wish you could see yourself the way __I__ see you. I don't understand how you can loathe the person I love so dearly, the person who brings me more joy than anyone else ever has, the one I want to share every moment of every day with," she murmured, her eyes becoming brighter as her thoughts swirled around her head. I saw the life blossoming within her as her passion shined through. She smiled once more, "I want our children to be __just __like you. I want them to be poetic, graceful, funny, and full of life. I want them to be these beautiful, feral children who know not of the chains we are bound by. I want them to run free, turning the world into their own personal adventure. I want them to be curious like you. I want them to be creative. I want them to know no binds aside from that which connects us to all living things: love. I want them to be just like you, Loki: strong, capable, fierce, and loving beyond words."_

"_Nova," I mused, testing the name once more on my tongue. It was the name for our future son. I smiled at the mere sound of it, "the new beginning," I added._

"_And Aurora," Eva replied, a lone tear cascading down her cheek as her smile became even more radiant than before. I knew how emotional-how __passionate__-she became when speaking of our future family. There were so many other names, but she was __especially__ connected to the one for our first daughter. Her eyes fluttered closed as she envisioned what she would look like, "she'd have your hair and my eyes. She'll be the dawn of a new day."_

* * *

***Steve's POV***

Everyone in the tower was exhausted. Between trying to keep Thor under control and sitting vigil at Eva's bedside, no one was getting enough sleep. I could still remember Tony's panicked, fear-filled voice when he called to tell Bruce to meet him at the Avengers tower as soon as possible. Bruce, of course, began panicking, thinking that something happened to Tony, but our worst fears surfaced when Tony uttered only two words: "It's Eva." That was all any of us needed to know. I couldn't stay away-none of us could-so we packed up and left for the tower in the heart of the city. When I first saw her, it was nothing short of horrific. Eva had always been, since we met at the expo, the woman I was madly, deeply, purely in love with, but I was always more than aware that I'd never have that one chance I so desperately wanted from her. Underneath the romantic love I harbored for her, though, was a platonic love. She was my family, the one touchstone to my past that I had left. She was my world, and I had to see it crumble before my very eyes.

Thor had been the one to restart her heart, but Tony and Bruce were the ones who struggled every single day for the past week and a half to bring her back-to _keep_ her alive. She just wasn't waking up. In the short time that I'd known her in the 40's, she was this immovable force. She did nothing she didn't want to do, and that showed once more when we reconnected in New York when we fought Loki's army together. Her stubbornness was endearing up until her life depended on it. She was proving to be just as immovable as she was so long ago. It was just another reminder of what I had missed for so long. We all sat vigil at her bedside, never leaving her on her own for even a moment. What if that single moment had been the one where she opened her eyes? Aaldir, Eva's father, had sat with her from the moment they arrived up until the moment he had to leave to take care of some of the promises she asked of him. Thor, on the other hand, refused to leave her side, much like Tony, until he was nearly forced away from her.

The most surprising sight, though-aside from finding Natasha curled up in bed next to Eva, sleeping silently with her red hair looking unkempt-happened right before I entered her room the last time, ready to sit with that goddess of a woman. _She_ sat in the chair, staring at Eva's peaceful face. It was the closest they had been in far too long, and though Eva had taken the memory of her from _her_ mind, it was as if _she_ could remember everything. It was as if _she_ was reliving her past just by gazing upon Eva's features. I was shocked that she'd even have the urge to be in the room since she didn't "know" Eva, but it was clear when I saw the desperate look in _her _eyes. _She _felt the connection. She didn't understand it, but she felt something. Clint was the one to remove her from the room, ushering her out into the living area where _she_ would end up busying herself trying to keep Tony preoccupied, as his insistence on being with Eva was becoming more and more harmful to him. Hopefully, he'd be able to get some sleep with _her_ around, but I knew better.

Over the past few days, the color had slowly begun to come back to Eva's cheeks, but I was uncertain if it was my eyes playing tricks on me. A part of me wondered if it had all been just a part of my wishful thinking. She still looked so weak, so fragile. It was very unlike her, though. Eva had always been a force to be reckoned with, but when I fought my way to her side after Tony and Thor arrived with her, she looked so lifeless. As I sat by her bed, my hands enveloped the one at her side, "you know, I don't even know if you can hear me, or if you'd even listen if you could. In a way, I hope you aren't because you've done more than enough listening just in the time I've known you. You shouldn't have to hear any more words out of my mouth, but...I can't help but feel like I need to speak, or the silence is going to kill me," I confessed to the sleeping beauty in the bed.

"Everyone here is worried sick, and I know that it's the last thing you'd want. You've spent your life worrying about others, but you don't like it when others worry about you. Thor isn't handling it well. He keeps trying to bust in here every ten minutes, wanting to see if you're okay, wanting to know if you're awake. I think he's blaming himself for what happened. Clint's doing his best to keep everyone busy and preoccupied, but it's only because he can pull himself together in the situations when everyone else is falling apart. If things go south, though, any...further south than they've already gone, he'll be the first one to lose it, and I think I'd bet money on it," I revealed to her as if she were wide awake. The one sided conversation wasn't ideal, but it was what I needed, or I would lose it.

I yawned, the fatigue catching up to me quickly, "Natasha is keeping busy, but it's like pulling teeth to get her away from you. Once she's away, she'll take a nap or two, but when she's with you, that girl is stuck to your side like glue. She's just as immovable as you," I chuckled, thinking of the times I nearly had to pick Nat up and carry her out of the room, "Bruce hasn't spoken much, but that's understandable. Him and Tony were the ones who did some serious work on you when you got here. It was a situation he didn't think he'd have to be in again, especially not with someone he admires the way he admires you. He's taking it pretty hard, but I don't think anyone has taken it as hard as Tony."

I sighed, thinking of how disheveled Tony looked when I saw him, how exhausted he seemed whenever he spoke. He was constantly on the verge of passing out, and he was becoming more and more agitated the more time passed without any changes from Eva. He was becoming reckless, and it hurt to see him like that. I could still recall following him down to his workshop on that first night. Aaldir had removed Tony from Eva's room, sensing that it was for the best that he try to get some sleep, but Tony decided to do anything _but_ sleep. He went down to his lab, and I followed, wanting to be there to support him in the event that he needed it. However, all I did was witness him destroy his lab, his workshop, the place he treated as his sanctuary. He destroyed it and everything inside it. Once it was over, having stayed back and allowed him the opportunity to let out his anger and frustration, I made my presence known.

Never in my life had I seen a man break down like that before. I wanted to break down and cry. I wanted to scream and yell and blame someone for it. I wanted to go into a fit of rage. I wanted to be angry, but I had other people I needed to think about. I knew about the connection Eva had to Tony and vice versa, so his reaction was more than understandable, and it was part of the reason why I didn't let my emotions out in a similar fashion. When I finally confronted Tony, he stood completely still, tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked around at the chaos that took the place of his-usually tidy-workshop. The only words that came from his mouth as I pulled him into an embrace were: "it's my fault." It was enough to elicit the tears I'd been holding back, and the two of us shed tears of uncertainty with one another. All the while, I silenced his insistence that it was his fault. It wasn't.

I cleared my throat, not wanting the tears to start again, "I know I shouldn't be...giving you advice, but if you fight for anyone...it should be Tony," I murmured, my bottom lip quivering as I attempted to hold back the ever-present tears. It was as if her situation was sinking in slowly, and the longer she went without waking up, the more real it all became, "the thing about Tony is that...you're his whole world, Eva...just like you're mine. He's lost without you here, and losing you is going to break him. He's one of the strongest people I've ever known, but...everyone has their breaking point, and this is his. He's scared of what life would look like without you. I'd be lying if I told you that we all weren't just as worried, but I know you _especially_ don't want to leave him like this. I know the way you look at him, and...if there's any part of you that's able to fight, I'm asking that you do it for Tony. Do it for Loki, for _her_…" I trembled, the tears finally escaping my eyes as I gripped her hand.

"A part of me wants to ask you to fight for me, but...I can't bring myself to ask anything more of you for the rest of my life. It's unfair. I've missed you for far too long. Not a day went by that I didn't think of you or the dress you wore the night we met-the pretty blue one that made you look like a doll. I still thought of the white ribbon in your hair that matched the high heels you wore, the ones that made you that much taller than me. I thought of how red your lips were, almost as vibrant as the color of your eyes. If you told me then that you were from another planet, I would've believed you because I'd never seen someone so beautiful before in my life," I laughed through the overwhelming emotions. My bottom lip continued to quiver, tears clinging to my lashes, "from the moment I left the expo to this very moment, you've been at the forefront of my mind. Your face has been the one I see when I close my eyes, and I don't know if I can go back to missing you. I've missed you for long enough, Eva, so...even though it's selfish, I'm asking you to fight for _me_, too."

Knowing that tears would be the last thing she'd want, I tried to pull myself together, feeling more tired than ever. The energy we had all dumped into keeping each other stable was emotionally and _physically_ draining. We were all terrified, but none of us talked about it with each other, almost as if talking about it would only make the situation more real, and we were desperately trying to treat it like a dream we would soon wake up from. I leaned down to press my lips to her knuckles, trying to will away the coolness of her skin. It wasn't the warm touch I had committed to memory. Forcing a smile, I rested my head on her abdomen, careful to steer clear of the wound that not even Tony and Bruce could fix. Right before my eyes fluttered closed, I fixated them on her beautiful face, "besides, you still owe me a dance," I recalled a memory that seemed so recent and yet too long ago all at once. Then, my eyes fluttered closed, and the darkness of sleep enveloped me where I held her in my arms and danced with her once more.

* * *

***Eva's POV***

My head rested against Howard's shoulder. We were in the living room of his home, the static of the record player filling the silence as we continued to sway back and forth with one another. He wouldn't let me go, and I didn't really want him to. All I wanted was a moment or two with the people I'd gone so long without. The only ones I hadn't gotten to see were Hjalmar and Bucky, two of the people I wanted to see the most. Still, I found comfort in Howard's arms. It had been far too long, and I had forgotten just how much I missed his gentle demeanor. He wasn't always cruel and harsh, but that side of him seemed to come out more with Maria and Tony; however, the man who stood before me was the man I met before it all, the man I met at the Expo, the man who asked me to marry him the very first night we met. He was young again, but he still had all the wisdom of his later years. As we swayed back and forth, his left hand holding my right one against his chest, I listened for a heartbeat that wasn't there, but his voice cut through the peaceful silence, "my son...I can't thank you enough for what you've done for him. I can't thank you enough for what you've sacrificed to be by his side," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I pulled away from him just enough to gaze up at him, "I look at none of what I did as a sacrifice. He is a gift, Howard, a miracle that you and Maria trusted me to look after, and all I can do is hope that I did it right."

"How is he?" he asked, fighting back the emotion that was clear in his eyes. Howard wasn't always good to Tony, but he loved his son.

"He's..._magical_."

"Is he better than me?" he pressed, pushing through the lump in his throat as his eyes watered.

I nodded my head, not even having to take a single second to think about it, "yes," I answered honestly. Tony was a better man than Howard, but it didn't mean that Howard was a bad man. Tony was the embodiment of all the good that was left in his father and so much more, "yes, he is," I repeated, thinking of the man I had left behind, the man I didn't know if I'd ever see again. I was selfish. Death-allowing myself the peace of it-would be my final choice and the only selfish one I'd ever made.

Howard nodded, a tear falling down his cheek, "then I'm proud," he murmured, his voice trembling as he spoke of the man his son had become. Through his quivering lower lip, he spoke, "and that means you _did _do it right."

The moment he spoke, I threw my arms around his neck, pulling our bodies close together, basking in the warmth I had missed from him. Howard was one of my very closest friends throughout my life. He had been one of the several who were born of the same star as me, and losing him was like losing a piece of myself. Losing him felt like I had cut out my heart and thrown it into the never-ending void. Being with him again-being back with so many of them-filled that void in my heart, but the longer I remained, the more the new void was growing. It was the one where the living still remained. It was as if I was losing them the same way I had once lost Howard and Charlotte and Maria and everyone else who had gone on before me. I held him as tightly as I could without breaking him, "I've missed this," I noted, burying my face into his neck as I breathed in the sweet smell of him. It was similar to Tony's. He smelled like his workshop.

"Not nearly as much as I've missed you," Howard laughed, his voice still thick with emotions that he tried to suppress. He never liked being emotional, and that rang especially true when he was around me. He never needed to be a force of power when he was with me, but there had only been a small handful of times that I'd seen him cry. He grew silent, the pang of joy morphing into a bittersweetness that filled the very air around us. The sound of what he was about to say even drowned out the soft static of the record player. We just stood in the deafening silence, his body no longer swaying back and forth in that familiar rhythm, "you know you can't stay, though, right?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, pulling away to gaze into his sad eyes. With my arms still wrapped around his neck, I took the opportunity to stroke the back of his neck like I did with Tony on more than one occasion. His stern, sad eyes stayed locked on mine, but they softened when he saw just how hopeful I was to have back even an ounce of what I once had. I cocked my head to the side, "would it be so bad if I did?" I asked, knowing from just our shortened visit with each other that he was just as eager to have this back as I was.

"It would," that deep and familiar voice echoed out from behind me.

Hjalmar.

The moment I heard his voice, though, was the moment I was hurled back into the world of the living. My eyes shot open, and I pulled in a ragged breath like I hadn't breathed in years. My eyes scanned the room I was in, and it looked so incredibly similar. We were back in New York at the tower. This was the room I'd spent a short stint in after the battle of New York as Tony looked me over to make sure I was okay. My near-death experience had frightened him, and he wouldn't let me move until he made sure every wound was closed and every bruise was fading away. I could vividly remember how gentle his hands were and how delicately he treated me, as if I were a piece of fine china that, should he make even _one_ wrong move, I would break into pieces.

Before I had the opportunity to grieve what I had lost-time with my brother-my eyes landed on the man in the room. The man out of time. The man who owned one of the brightest corners of my heart. Steve was slouched over in his chair, his head resting gingerly against my abdomen, careful not to graze the wound that was still so tender. The weakened state it left me in was still prevalent, but it no longer hurt the way it did at the beginning. I was unsure whether the pain became more tolerable after the intensity of the pain that the Extremis serum caused, or if the pain just faded with time. Either way, it was still uncomfortable, and I could tell that Steve had been cautious to not rest his head too close to it. Dark circles were visible beneath his closed eyes, and it was clear to see that he hadn't slept well if he even slept at all. His left hand gripped the loose shirt I was in, balling it up in his hand that rested right in front of his face, nearly grazing his nose. His right hand was tucked beneath him and grasped my own.

He looked incredibly uncomfortable in the position, but I knew why he was doing it. I knew that it was just to be close to me, and I was grateful for that. If I had woken up to nothing but the empty walls staring back at me, I would've been far more willing to melt back into the nothingness I had. However, when I saw how desperate he looked, I knew that no matter what followed, I needed to fight. All that this life offered to me was embodied in the man before me. He embodied the life that I had grown comfortable without when I remembered what Death had taken from me, and in that moment, in the silence that fell over us, I heard my own heartbeat, and I remembered how beautiful this was. Nothing in death could compare to what I felt in life. It couldn't compare to the wholeness I felt just _looking_ upon the face of a man who had symbolized all that I loved about humanity.

I smiled down at him, the odd tear falling from my eye just as silently as the rain outside. I had no perception of time with the sky being as dark as it was. In the peace that Steve's presence brought, all of the questions that threatened to plague my mind were set aside for the moment, and I lifted my left hand up to run my fingers through those silky smooth golden brown locks. I was careful not to wake him. Even though I wanted to throw my arms around him and hold him until I was pried away from him, his gentle, calm breathing kept me from it. He deserved sleep, regardless of how deeply I'd missed him. I hadn't been in his presence since New York, and I had missed him dearly. I missed the way the room became warmer each time he entered it, the way his body tensed if anyone even cast their gaze over to me, the way his body stiffened when our hands brushed against each other, the way the color rose to his cheeks when I caught his eye, the way he averted his gaze and cleared his throat when I caught him looking at me.

The grass ring Loki had made for me was still secured around the proper finger of my left hand, and I smiled down at it, my eyes flickering away from the peaceful face of one of the most beautiful men I'd ever met. Of all that I'd lost-including my own life-Loki's promise for our future wasn't one of them. Suddenly, without any warning, I felt the shift. It was an awakening-one I was familiar with. The pain in my abdomen disappeared just as quickly as it had begun. The pain was gone completely, and all that was left was the fluttering of those little butterflies. This was the love I forfeited once before, a love I nearly forfeited again. My heart skipped a beat, and as if he could feel the slightest change within me, Steve's eyes fluttered open, meeting mine. He sat up quickly when he realized that my eyes were open, and it was clear at that moment that my fate had been questionable for some time. He blinked a few times and focused those ocean blue eyes on me, "am I dreaming?" he asked, tears welling up in his already puffy eyes. It was too clear that he'd been crying more often than not, and I couldn't help but feel guilty for prolonging the pain and worry that I'd caused.

I shook my head, the dam of emotions within me threatening to break. Every moment I wished to be close to him came rushing back, and that grief over not having him with me every moment of every day hit me all at once. My bottom lip quivered as I collected myself enough to speak, "I still owe you a dance," I choked out before the tears began streaming down my cheeks. He gasped, struggling to hold back his own tears. I pulled my hand away from his, reaching up to stroke his silky smooth skin. The moment our skin touched, the first tear streamed down his cheek, and mine followed suit.

However, our moment of peace was cut short when the door to the room opened. Steve whipped around, disconnecting our bodies as that voice-the voice more moving than the vibrations of life itself-sounded, "Tony wanted me to ask you if…" her voice trailed off as her eyes met mine. Green eyes. The color of spring. The color of life. More vibrant than emeralds. My heart stopped.

_Her_.

She stood in disbelief, her body completely still, her eyes never once leaving mine. She paid no attention to Steve, the man she had originally meant to speak with. Instead, her eyes were locked on mine. As she took in every single one of my features, I watched as she tried to place me in her life. I watched as she struggled to find reason in our "sudden" connection. Her mouth gaped open as she helplessly searched for any words to fill the deafening silence. Her black hair, darker than the night itself, cascaded around her shoulders with two small braids trailed from her temples and met in the back of her head, keeping the hair from her face. She was just as beautiful as I remembered, just as delicate, just as fair, just as perfect. As full as my heart became, it began to break, and as if she could hear the sound of it, she spoke, drowning it out, "hi," she whispered, the greeting clearly meant for me.

While she had been able to compose herself quickly enough, I was still overwhelmed by her mere presence. Never in my life did I think we'd meet like this. Never in my life did I think I'd even see her again. I had promised to stay away, after all. I refused to be indulged with any information about her other than whether or not she was happy and safe. I didn't know, and I didn't _want_ to know. However, there was the part of me that still came to life in her presence. Sensing my inability to even form a coherent thought, Steve spoke up, "could you go let Tony know that she's awake?" he asked, trying to urge her away. I should've prepared myself for her presence. Steve had been at the tower. Why hadn't I anticipated this? Why hadn't I demanded for him to leave? Why didn't I wake up and run off the moment I saw that Steve was so close, meaning that she would also be just as close?

Her voice pulled me from my thoughts, "Jarvis, can you let Tony know that Eva's awake?" she asked Tony's AI, mentioning me by name. There was no way. She couldn't know me. She couldn't know who I was. I had taken every single precaution. I had taken every single memory. I took it all from her to keep her safe. I forced away all the memories she had of herself. She didn't know who she was aside from who she became under Tony's watchful eye.

"How...how do you know my name?" I stuttered out the first words I'd spoken to her in what felt like years but what had truly only been half of one.

"You're one of the heroes of New York. Tony talks about you a lot," she answered, stepping even further into the room. She closed the door behind her, making her way over to me. I tensed as her eyes stayed locked on mine. While I was relieved that she didn't know my name from her memories of me, I was terrified that she would figure it out. I was terrified that she would remember. I tried to sink back further into the bed as Steve frantically searched for any other way to get her to leave. A part of me wanted him to remove her. A part of me wanted him to send her away or to take her back to wherever they were staying. However, there was the other part of me that was entranced by those eyes. I had never shed the love I had for her; it would've been an impossible feat. I had torn myself from her, but I never managed to tear her away from me. She smiled, and I thought I would melt into a puddle on the floor. I thought my heart would stop. The world felt like it came to a halt, and it listened to the way my heart skipped a beat, "I guess it's only fair that you know who I am," she smiled, her eyes glistening like the stars in the sky. She put them to shame. I didn't need her to tell me. I already knew who she was. She was the very sun that rose on the horizon..._the dawn of a new day_.

"My name...is _Aurora_."

She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever given. Loving her was my greatest weakness, and leaving her was my greatest failure. Aurora was my best kept secret, the love I forfeited, my dream come true, my princess, my awakening..._my daughter_.

_I ran as fast as I could. I ran until the sound of my heartbeat threatened to drown out Loki's words. His voice was harsh, but his words cut me like a knife. It would've been easier and far less cruel for him to just kill me. Instead, he would leave me to suffer, to take on the world alone. I was certain that Loki was speaking to his father to receive his blessing to ask me to marry him, to ask me to be his princess. However, when he returned to the garden, it was clear that the topic of conversation was very different. Instead of asking me to marry him, he plunged a proverbial knife into my heart, but even if he had done that, it would've been far less cruel. He reminded me of my place. I was nothing. I was no one. I __had__ nothing. I __had__ no one. I was just an orphan, a girl without a name, a peasant. I was undeserving of being known as a princess. I had tainted his name for long enough, and he had grown bored of me. They were words I never thought I'd hear from my love, the man who had taken a thousand years of my life for himself._

_I didn't stop until I reached the cottage. I didn't stop to sing to the birds in the trees above me. I didn't stop to listen to the song they would sing back. I didn't stop for Hjalmar's concerned voice from the stables next to the cottage. I didn't stop until I burst through the front door of the cottage, throwing my arms around my father's waist the moment I saw him. He didn't even have to ask me what was on my mind. He didn't have to understand the situation in order to offer me his comforting embrace. He simply wrapped his strong arms around me, holding me against him in order to offer me the stability I so desperately needed. As I buried my face into his chest, I whispered the words that were meant for Loki. They were the words I should've told him before he left to speak with his father, the words that had been sitting on my mind for weeks, the words that were attached to the awakening within me, the words I thought would've brought us both so much happiness, so much joy. Instead, they were muffled by my father's strong chest, causing them to echo back to me, reminding me that this was a journey I would make alone, "I'm pregnant."_


	25. Her

**_Warning: There is a scene toward the end of this chapter that could be a potential trigger, but I am unable to reveal it without spoiling the chapter._**

_Loki and I hadn't seen or spoken to each other in months. I had kept myself a secret to him, staying within the confines of my home or in the general proximity. I dared not venture too far away for fear that my secret would be discovered. Only a handful of people knew of the little life I was caring for until he or she was ready to make her grand entrance into my life. The baby that Loki and I created would prove to be the last piece of him I would have, and I would hold them close for the rest of my life. Sif, Ephinea, Thor, and Frigga were the only ones who knew aside from Aaldir and Hjalmar-the two people who saw me every single day, the two people who I could _**_never_**_ keep a secret from no matter how hard I tried, especially not one of this magnitude. I swore everyone who knew to absolute secrecy. No one was to tell Loki. He didn't want to be with me, and I wouldn't burden him with the responsibility of this life-a life he didn't want._

_Resting my hand on my ever-growing bump, I smiled down at it, wondering what he or she would look like. It shouldn't have been that way, though. I shouldn't have wondered these things on my own. The plan was always to start a family with Loki; it was what we'd always spoken of...always _**_dreamed_**_ of. Each time I thought of them, I wondered if I would be lucky enough for him or her to look nothing like him. Perhaps it would help me forget that he was a part of my life at all. I didn't want the constant reminder that I mothered his child, a man who never loved me in the first place, a man I _**_still_**_ loved even after all the harsh words, all the anger, all the grief. He was the man who guided me through the darkness time and time again, but when he threw me away, I was left with nothing _**_but_**_ darkness. The other part of me wanted to be reminded of the man I knew. For a thousand years, Loki was the man who loved me fiercely, the man who made me feel beautiful, the man who made me feel like a princess. I still wanted our child to be like him, like the man I knew._

_No one spoke of Loki when they visited, and I was given no information as to what was going on in the outside world. No one wanted to burden me with knowledge, and I was grateful for that. Frigga hadn't visited in a short time, but Ephinea brought the gowns that Frigga made to fit me. Instead of telling me where Frigga was and what business she was attending to, Ephinea simply told me that there were responsibilities Frigga needed to see to at the palace. I always understood. When I mentioned the fear in her eyes, she would give a cryptic answer, and I usually gave up trying to figure it out, knowing that she was keeping her words private for a reason. No one wanted to upset me more than I already had been._

_Listening to Hjalmar humming the song he often sang to my stomach, I traced small circles against the bump. Like an explosion of butterflies, I felt the life within me shift as my little one found a comfortable position. I stopped moving as soon as I felt the first movement within me, smiling at the feeling. It was still so surreal. Even though I was still heartbroken that this would be a journey I would be taking alone, I had prepared myself for so long to be a mother, and this was the most beautiful opportunity to be given. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be. Perhaps having Loki _**_and_**_ a baby wasn't meant for me. Perhaps I wasn't meant to be too happy, so I had to lose something. My little one spun into an uncomfortable position, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. It felt like one of their feet was stuck in my ribs, causing every movement to feel like a cramp. I gritted my teeth, Hjalmar's voice quieting the moment he realized that I was in pain. Father had been out in the stables and the garden tending to the animals and plants, and he had asked Hjalmar to keep an eye on me. My brother turned around, his eyes focusing on me, "is everything alright?" he asked, trying to hide the worry in his voice._

_I chuckled, trying to work my way through the pain, but it only made the sharp pain that much worse, "ooh," I breathed out, trying and failing to pull in a deep breath. The moment my lungs expanded too far, that pain felt like a stab in the chest. I grunted, "I'll be alright," I noted, not wanting my brother to worry._

_Trying to get my overprotective older brother to stop worrying had always been a losing battle. It was like he was made to worry about me, "is it the baby?" he asked, his blue eyes becoming warmer the moment he mentioned the littlest Asgardian he had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of._

_Another breath, another sharp pain. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force myself to breathe through it, and I gave a nod in response to his question. As if he knew that anymore questions would make me start to panic, Hjalmar closed the space between us and sat on the floor next to me, offering me his silent support. That was all I ever needed. Those little moments of support-in a perfect world-would've been given to me by Loki, but I would have never been so lucky. Every breath that was too deep caused a sharp pain. No matter how I tried to adjust, no matter what I did, that little foot was still lodged in my ribs. I snickered, "there's a mutually comfortable position for you to be in, you know? It doesn't have to be this one," I noted, speaking to my stomach, and with one quick turn-one burst of butterflies-he or she repositioned herself as if they could hear and understand me. I smiled as I inhaled deeply without pain, "oh, you're going to be a little troublemaker just like your father, aren't you?" I asked, thinking only of the man Loki had been, not the man he became._

_My moment of happiness, as always, was cut short. My father burst into the cottage, already donning his leather armor. He had no need for the bulky metal armor, even though I often pestered him to protect himself more. I knew the type of warrior he was, though. He was nimble and quick, always faster than his opponent. However, I couldn't help but think that there would come a day when he met his match on the battlefield, an opponent who was both stronger and more agile than him. I wasn't always worried for my father's safety, but when I saw the fear in his eyes as he hurried over to the mantle above the lit fireplace that offered us some dim light in the darkness of the night. He pulled his greatsword, Omen, off the wall, and my heart leapt into my throat. Hjalmar scrambled up to his feet, but I was a bit slower than usual, gravity pulling me in a different way than it once had. Father's eyes flickered between the two of us, "arm yourselves-both of you. Do not leave the cottage until I return, and stay absolutely silent. Listen to everything. Every snap of a twig could be one of them," he rambled off his orders, ignoring the clear confusion on both of our faces. He focused his eyes on my brother, "and if they do find the two of you hiding in here, you protect your sister at all costs, do you understand?" he asked, his brown eyes becoming more stern than I'd ever seen them before._

_Hjalmar gave a quick nod as a response to our father's question. It was an order that I loathed with every fiber of my being. We all knew that I could protect myself, and should it be my time to retire, then so be it; however, my father made my brother promise time and time again that should my life be in question, he would lay his life on the line for me. Hjalmar never faltered, either, but I didn't want his blood on my conscience. His thick eyebrows furrowed, "what's going on?"_

"_Frost Giants," our father answered simply, his eyes hardening._

_My blood ran cold as only one thought crossed my mind. Loki. He was out there, and as long as he was out there, he was in danger. While a part of me never wished to see him again, the larger part of me-the part that still loved him endlessly-was convinced that there was still something to salvage. I needed to protect him. Before I could move away from my father and over to the door, ready to disobey every order he gave by running out into the darkened woods, he grabbed my arm. I narrowed my eyes at him, "I need to find Loki!"_

"_You need to stay here!" he argued, his voice louder than usual. My father never believed in solving problems by raising our voices and shouting at one another. However, when he spoke, we listened. I didn't disobey him, and it wasn't because of fear, it was because I knew how guilty I would feel for letting him down. He didn't disappoint me, so I didn't want to disappoint him. His eyes were harsh in that moment, though, and I knew that should I disobey him and try to leave, it would break his heart._

_Still, I couldn't stop the thoughts of Loki. I couldn't imagine a world without him, a life without a single hope that we could possibly find our way back to each other. Even after months of not waking up with him by my side, I still held out hope that we would someday rekindle the love we once had. Something deep within me was telling me that he didn't mean everything he said to me in the garden. He couldn't keep up a lie for a thousand years. I knew him since we were children, and the spark had been there between us since even before then. If there was any way for me to keep him safe, I had to discover it. I couldn't just sit in the cottage and hope that he would be protected, "if the frost giants are here, he's in danger!" I argued back to my father, balling my hands up into fists as the anger coursed through me. If anyone hurt him, they'd have to answer to me. If anyone hurt him, they would discover true pain. In my father's eyes, I saw a flash of red in my own, a shade that startled him but seemed almost like a trick of the light. Perhaps it was nothing._

_He shook off the strange occurrence, "and if you go to him, _**_you_**_ will be in danger!" he growled, his voice low._

"_It's worth the risk!" I insisted, trying to free my arm from his grasp. It was a losing battle. My father was a God, and he had the strength to prove it. While he was the God of Mercy-a peacekeeper if there ever was one-he was still powerful. He had a vice grip on my wrist, and he showed no signs of letting go._

"_You're not just risking your own life anymore. There's another one you must think of," he reminded me, gesturing down to the sign of life that blossomed within me. I gazed down at the bump that hid beneath my gown, the tears burning my eyes. I had become so much more emotional as of late. All of my emotions had been out of control and far more intense than usual. I knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that my father was right. If I left the safety of the cottage, I'd be putting more than just my life on the line, I'd be inadvertently putting my unborn baby's life in danger as well. Knowing that he had successfully changed my mind on the matter, my father continued, catching my eyes once more and calming my nerves with just a simple gaze, "you have my word that I'll find Loki, and I'll send him back to the cottage. He's still family, and we protect our own."_

* * *

_Hjalmar positioned himself at the door to his chambers with his battleaxe, Frostbite, at the ready. His living space was at the top of the stairs with an easily maneuverable makeshift ladder that we built as children to sneak out of the house and play with the wildlife in the forest. Strategically, it was the best place to hide as long as we didn't move around too much, keeping our presence within the house a secret. We had the perfect view of two important directions. The frost giants, should they come for us, would've come from the North, South, and East, and we had the perfect-albeit distorted by the darkness-view of the North and East. The vast forest beyond our home to the West wasn't the most strategically sound for them to ambush us, but Hjalmar and I couldn't rule it out. My heart felt like it was in my throat as I grew more and more worried with every passing moment that Loki didn't arrive. However, if he knew that my father was out there, he wouldn't run when he could fight by his side. Loki was just as wildly protective of my family as he was of me. Aaldir had taken him in on more than one occasion, and Loki often voiced his love for my father and brother, the two of them being just as pivotal in his life as Thor and Frigga._

_It was my worst fear in that moment, but it offered me a sense of relief. What if Loki stayed to fight the frost giants alongside my father, not wanting to leave him alone on the battlefield? Would that mean anything for us? Thousands of scenarios continued to rush through my mind, but I tried to dismiss them each time another one arose. When my thoughts began overpowering me, I would find Hjalmar's eyes in the darkness, and they offered me comfort. A light, supportive smile formed on his full lips beneath the golden brown beard that matched the long waves that were pulled into a bun atop his head. He was the one who kept me grounded in my moment of need, the one who pulled my thoughts back to the present when they were venturing off into darkened territory._

_The snap of a twig pulled our attention, and we looked out the East windows, the only light coming from the moon and stars in the sky. It lit patches of the pathway to the house, which was where the sound resonated from. As my heart began to thud in my chest, my blood running cold, I gripped the hilt of Soulkeeper, trying to steady my breathing. My eyes continued to focus solely on the path while Hjalmar's darted around to see if they had ventured away from it in order to sneak up on us. Suddenly, the light caught the small group headed back toward the cottage led by my father. Even in the starlight, I got a quick glimpse of him. His face was pale, and he didn't move a muscle aside from the gentle swaying of his body as his chestnut stallion carried him toward the cottage. Following close behind him was Thor on his grey steed and Ephinea on her spotted mare._

_The sight that left me truly baffled, the sight that caused me to choke on the very air I needed to survive, was the rope in my father's hand that led Loki's midnight black stallion along with them. His coat blended into the darkness surrounding him, but when the light from the stars and moon hit it, there was the slightest shimmer that gave him away. However, upon closer inspection, I noticed that Onyx had no rider. He walked as if he was just as aware of the reality that I couldn't bring myself to acknowledge. It couldn't be. It couldn't happen this way. The moment it processed in my mind, I sprinted out the bedroom door before Hjalmar could catch me in an embrace that would be stronger than my will to live if my love was truly gone. No amount of supportive gazes would comfort me at that point._

_I scrambled down the stairs with Hjalmar right behind me, shouting my name the entire time. He didn't see what I saw, though. It was clear that he hadn't seen Loki's bare horse. That was a gift I had presented him with so long ago, the horse that was the opposite of Aria. While Aria was pale white, Loki's was as black as night. He took a liking to things that were cast aside. Asgardians had been some of the most superstitious people I'd ever met throughout my life's journey. They believed that everything symbolized something, and a black so rich, so vibrant, symbolized darkness and destruction; therefore, they were cast aside. Loki knew that isolation. He knew what it was like to be cast aside, so he developed a deep love for the "undesirables." It was one of the purest things about him. He found the unyielding beauty in the things others deemed as grotesque. Loki had a different perception, so when I came across the wild black stallion during one of my many walks through the deep woods, I took him in and trained him for when I would inevitably gift him to Loki. I could still remember the way Loki's eyes filled with tears when Onyx closed the space between the two of them, choosing Loki as his own._

_Bursting through the door that led out to the path my father was making his way down, I locked eyes with him, the moon illuminating his tear-stained cheeks. I shook my head, falling to my knees. I knew. It all added up. I sat in the safety of my home-followed my father's orders-and allowed my love to be taken from me. This was my fault. My chest felt like it was collapsing, and my breath was escaping me. I struggled to pull in every breath, but I didn't want to fight without him. I didn't want to fight if every possible future was gone. If Loki was truly...I couldn't even think of the word. If he was gone, he took my life with him. I didn't want to fight. There was no purpose to my life without him. It would be a life void of happiness, of warmth, of everything. I had a family who loved me, friends who cherished me, and a baby on the way. However, if my fears were undoubtedly true, there was nothing left. Loki and I were separated, but there was still hope. If he was gone, that hope was gone, too, and I would die alone. There would be no other man. There would be no other entity who could fill the hole in my heart, so what would my purpose be? What was a life without love?_

_As my ears rang, I felt my brother's presence at my side. He remained standing, but he grasped my shoulder with his hand, offering me every ounce of support I would need. He knew, too. Our eyes were locked on the approaching group. I studied each of their faces like I needed more proof that my hopes and dreams would be crushed in mere moments. Thor's eyes were red from crying, and a permanent frown was etched on his face. His hair was a mess, which wasn't _**_unusual_**_, but it looked as if he had run his fingers through it time and time again, trying to process the sad truth that he would break to me soon enough. Ephinea rode silently behind him, silent and solemn. She was stone-faced, but I knew that it wasn't because of her lack of emotions. She, like any other warrior of Asgard, knew how to compartmentalize, but she often didn't know when to stop. In any other circumstances, she'd allow herself to shed a tear on the way back from battle as she silently mourned the lives lost. This, though, was more proof that she was continuing to hold it together for my sake._

_My father's face was stricken with grief, his cheeks still glistening with tears. The closer he got with the group, the more I distanced myself. I tried to think of any other scenario that would lead to this. Maybe something else had transpired. Perhaps Loki was fine, and gifting back to me the horse I had given him was his way of letting me go completely. Maybe he was imprisoned, something that wouldn't seem far-fetched. All through Loki's life, it was as if Odin _**_looked_**_ for a reason to punish him. Maybe Odin had fallen in battle, and that was why the party was so somber. Loki had to be fine. I didn't care if he was alive with only resentment in his heart for me, at least he'd be alive. He _**_had_**_ to be alive. My hope would only live as long as he did, and...what would a life without it be?_

_When the group reached Hjalmar and I, Ephinea slid off her horse and closed the space between us. She offered me her hand, but I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to stand even if I did manage to rise to my feet. I gazed up into her dark brown eyes that seemed to glow in the light of the torch my father had lit should Loki need to find his way to the cottage in the darkness. It was the same torch he had lit for Hjalmar and I whenever we rode off to battle. Even though we knew our way back to the cottage, so much so that we could travel the path blindfolded, our father continued to light it. In the silence that fell between Ephinea and I, I took in her beauty. The pit in my stomach told me that this would be the final moment I'd be able to appreciate the beauty of anything. She was built like an amazon, tall and slender, yet delicate and strong. She had skin that was touched by the sun and waves of hair that was darker than mine but not quite as dark as Loki's. Her dark brown eyes offered the same security that my father's did, and they acted as a mirror back to myself and a window into who she was. She was a woman without imperfections, a woman who-in a reality where Loki and I never met-I would have promised my heart to. Instead, she promised her sword and her unyielding friendship and loyalty to me, which had always been more than I deserved._

_My eyes disconnected from hers, and they trailed down to her extended hand. I didn't know if I could take it. I didn't know if I should take it and rise up only to have the mass of the world thrown on top of me. I didn't know if standing up was worth it when I know I was moments away from falling, "take my hand, Eva. I won't let you fall," she promised, her voice softer than usual. She was the Goddess of Strength, a warrior if there ever was one, but she knew when to nurture, when to brush aside the title and show her vulnerability. With her promise, I reached out and took her hand. She pulled me up onto my feet before interlocking our fingers, giving my hand a gentle squeeze, "you are the strongest woman I've ever met. You're a force to be reckoned with, and I love you. I'm here to support you every step of the way, you understand that, right?" she asked, her eyes filling with those unshed tears._

_I nodded my head, unable to speak, but when our eyes met, she knew what I desperately wanted to tell her. She knew how thankful I was that she was there with me in that moment. Her bottom lip quivered as my father slid off his horse, followed closely by Thor. Hjalmar stood at my other side. His massive form had always acted as a shield for me, but nothing was going to shield me from this. When my father finally stood before us with Thor at his side, I asked the question that my soul already knew the answer to, "where is he?" I trembled, feeling that my knees were about to give way beneath me._

_Father sighed, "Eva, we should probably go inside," he murmured, fighting back the lump in his throat as he gestured toward the cottage._

"_No!" I snapped, causing everyone to flinch. I wasn't one to raise my voice. It was against my nature, but when the fate of my beloved was in question, my calm and gentle nature gave way to a more brutal one, "tell me where he is!" I demanded._

"_Eva," Thor breathed out, stepping forward as if he knew what my outburst was doing to my father. It was at that moment that I saw how unrelenting Thor's tears were. He had been crying, and he was _**_continuing_**_ to shed tears. That couldn't mean anything good. Something happened, but I didn't want to believe it until they said it._

_I gritted my teeth, narrowing my eyes at the prince of Asgard, the one who stood by my side without question for so many years, the one who professed his love to me time and time again. He deserved none of my anger, but he received it. I didn't know how to control this, how to control this unyielding anger at the unknown, "don't say another word unless you're telling me where he is!" I yelled, my voice piercing the dense forest air. The birds stopped their quiet chirping, and the world became quiet. Even the breeze stopped its gentle dance to stop and listen. The world became quiet, almost as if it was preparing itself to listen to the sound of my heart when it shattered._

_There was a moment of silence in the air that was once filled with our laughter. If I listened close enough, the echo of it was still deep in the woods, still bouncing off the trunks of the trees that came to life when we were together. It was my final moment before the end. When my father pulled in a shaky breath, I braced myself for the impact of his words, "he's gone," he whispered, his words cutting into my heart like a knife. I had vastly underestimated what it would feel like. Two single words, which were harmless apart from one another, ruined me when they were used together._

_My breath caught in my throat as I shook my head. I placed my hand on my chest, desperately searching for the beat of my heart to discover whether or not it was still there, "no, no, no, no, no," I mumbled, my knees buckling underneath me. Before I could fall to the ground, Hjalmar caught me, and Ephinea steadied me, continuing to hold tightly to my free hand. It didn't even feel real. It was like the moment before you fall asleep. You can't single out what your final moment of consciousness was when you awoke the next morning. One couldn't vividly describe the very last moment before sleep took them. The darkness-the nothingness-gradually enveloped you...just like it did to me in that moment. I continued to shake my head. I had no control over anything, and it felt as if my body had just given up for me for fear that I would do something drastic. I searched for words. I needed to know what happened, why this was my reality, and as I desperately tried to find the right ones, I wondered when I would wake up from this nightmare, "w-why...what-tell me what happened," I pressed, my voice trembling as I tried to hold myself together for just a little bit longer. The second I accepted it was the second I was lost._

_Father shook his head, "I don't think-"_

_I cut him off, "TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM!" I screamed, the ground beneath us trembling as a bolt of fury surged through me. Whoever killed him, whoever played a part in his..._**_death_**_, I hoped they were alive. I hoped they were alive, and I hoped they ran from me. I wanted the chase. I wanted to stalk them like a predator, to make them never feel safe no matter where they were. I wanted them to know fear. I wanted them to know _**_pain_**_. I wanted to know them, and I wanted them to know _**_of_**_ me. I would be like the wind. We knew of it, and we felt it from time to time, but we didn't see it-only the effects of it, like the rustling of the leaves on the trees. Before my fantasies could continue, I saw Thor's eyes widen at the sight of me, and I followed his eyes down to my hands where my veins seemed to glow red. I furrowed my eyebrows, fear overcoming me for a moment before it quickly manifested its way back into anger that I wasn't getting a response, "_**_TELL ME_**_!" I boomed once more, storm clouds converging above us._

"_The bridge was destroyed," Thor confessed, finally giving me somewhat of an answer._

_My heart seemed like it fell from my very chest if it was still present at all. The fear and anger immediately died away to grief and disbelief. I needed to see him for myself, or I couldn't believe it. With a quick twist of my body, I broke away from Ephinea and Hjalmar and took off toward the horses. I needed to see him. Before I could pass my father and Thor, Thor's strong arms caught me, stopping me in my tracks. There was no way to break free of his grasp unless I hurt him, and I didn't want to do that. Thor was one of my closest friends, one of my heroes. I didn't want to cause him pain, but if he didn't let me see Loki, the love of my life, my other soul, the father of my unborn baby, I would tear him apart. Tears began cascading down my cheeks as I kicked and flailed, trying to release his grip on me, "let me go! Let me go!" I yelled, trying desperately to twist my body away from him. I didn't want to be held by anyone except Loki. I didn't want anyone to touch me, to comfort me, to tell me this would all be okay. Nothing was ever going to be okay without him. I began beating on Thor's chest, trying to get him away from me, trying to get him to release his grip on me. I wanted him to give up, to let me go see the one I loved for the last time. I deserved something. I deserved to know, "__**let me go**!__" I wailed, the tears blurring my vision, "none of you know who he was to me! None of you understand! I can't do this! I can't do this without him! I need to see him!"_

"_There's nothing to see!" Thor boomed, stopping me from my desperate fight to free myself. What did he mean? What happened? I didn't have time to question him before tears began streaming down his cheeks, getting caught in the beard that was always so well kept, "he fell from the Bifrost, Eva. He's _**_gone_**_."_

_There was nothing._

_There was nothing for me to see, nothing for me to mourn. I would have no closure, but I would also have none of the trauma of seeing the man I loved-the man I was so deeply connected to-dead. All that I would have was a life left wondering. I'd wonder if it was all true, if he really even _**_was _**_dead. I'd have a life of hoping that it wasn't true, hoping it was all just an elaborate scheme. What if he ran away? What if everyone was just lying to me to get me to move on? What if this wasn't real? I turned my gaze over to my father, suddenly feeling like I was no longer in control of my own body or the words that escaped my mouth, "you promised!" I yelled, glaring at him. He flinched at my words, and I wished I could take them back, but I couldn't even stop. The tears continued to escape my eyes as I fought against Thor again. I no longer wanted to see Loki, to run to the bifrost to find any remnants of him. Instead, I wanted to hurt the only man who loved me without question, without reason or doubt. My father. I hated that feeling. I hated myself for feeling it, but I felt so deeply betrayed by his inability to keep his promise. I was crushed. I sobbed, "you promised to find him and send him home!"_

_He shook his head, his bottom lip quivering as his eyes filled with tears that never truly went away in the first place. It was clear that he'd been crying for some time before venturing home, but my words cut through him like a knife, "I'm so sorry."_

"_You promised!" I screamed, the emptiness becoming more and more unbearable. I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this. I couldn't do this without him. I had sent many souls to Death, but there was one final one that I desired to deliver: my own. As the thought crossed my mind, my body seized as I felt a light pop and a sudden gush of water wetting my inner thighs and legs._

_No._

_Everyone froze, staring at the ground beneath me. I lifted the skirt of my dress just enough to see the small puddle that formed on the forest floor before a sharp pain spread from my lower abdomen into my back and thighs, leaving me doubled over in pain. I gritted my teeth, feeling the pressure building up within me. It couldn't be happening yet. I still had time. There was still a while longer before the baby was supposed to arrive. This was all wrong. I wasn't ready. I shook my head over and over again, trying to come to terms with this. In that moment, Loki's fate was pushed to the side. My first thought was my baby..._**_our_**_ baby. I stared up at my father, terrified for the life of my child. This was wrong. This could only be a bad omen. All I could think of was that I would lose both of them, and that would be my tipping point. I needed his strength in that moment. Brushing off the pain I know I caused him, he closed the space between us, and Thor released me, allowing my father to scoop me up into his arms, "I've got you, little wolf," he murmured those familiar words to me._

"_I'll get my mother," Thor panicked before hurrying over to his horse. This wasn't the plan. We had the plan set up when I was closer to giving birth. I pictured him or her being born in the morning, as the sun rose to greet them. As the rain began to pour down on top of us, I knew that a beautiful sunrise wasn't a possibility._

_I wrapped one of my arms over my father's shoulder as the other cradled my stomach, wondering what would come of this, "it's not time. I'm not ready," I stated as the panic began to set in._

"_All things happen in their own time, little one. The time for this new life has come, and you will prepare yourself as you go along. You're ready for this, though," he whispered the words of support as he carried me toward the cottage with Hjalmar and Ephinea in tow, "you've _**_always _**_been ready for this."_

* * *

_Ephinea knelt by the side of my bed, holding my hand all the way. It was all happening so quickly but not quickly enough all at once. The pain was intense, but I swallowed all but a few grunts and moans along the way. Frigga had urged me to walk around, as it would help speed the process along, and it was also far more comfortable than laying in the bed. When a contraction hit me while I was walking, I was able to readjust myself much more than when I was in the bed. Thor, Sif, and Hjalmar waited in the living area, sitting by the fire in near silence. Each time Frigga and I walked out of the room, their eyes would dart over to us, anticipation filling their gaze as they searched for the baby that still hadn't arrived. Hjalmar would often take my hand and walk with me around the outer perimeter of the cottage. He knew how deeply I wanted to be surrounded by the wildlife when it came time to deliver my baby, but this was the best I was going to get-little strolls outside to speed up the process._

_He would speak with me, trying to calm my nerves, but more often than not, he'd hum that soft melody directly to my stomach, the sound of his voice echoing throughout my broken heart. Everyone kept the thoughts of Loki as far away as possible, and I was more focused on making sure my baby survived this delivery. Aside from the little walks that left me soaked from the rain, I was coaxed back into the bed where I stayed the majority of the time. I begged for the windows to be open even with the storm raging on. Frigga helped me change into dry clothes each time I ventured outside, but if I had it my way, I'd be giving birth to my child in the nature I fell so in love with. I wanted my baby to smell the sweetness of the air, feel the crispness of it as it filled his or her lungs. I wanted my baby to hear the rustling of the leaves and the vibrations of life just as I had. I wanted those to be his or her first experiences in this world, but no matter what, I wanted them to experience the world. I had to do what was best for my child, and giving birth to him or her in the wild wasn't in the cards for me without the proper planning. I hadn't planned much of anything, though, as the sudden nature of this was definitely a surprise._

_I gritted my teeth, the pressure building in my abdomen, back, and thighs. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to breathe through the contraction, but the pain turned sharp, and I let out a yell. Thunder cracked in the sky as the house quaked. I squeezed Ephinea's hand as the yell died into a groan, "after all this time with no training, and you're stronger than ever," she joked, a smile spreading across that angelic face._

_I snorted once the contraction died away again, the discomfort lingering there, "do you remember the time when Thor and I were training together, and you wanted to learn one of the maneuvers. I walked you through it, and he offered to spar with you as long as you didn't _**_actually_**_ hit him?" I asked, remembering a time that seemed so long ago._

_She nodded, the laughter never leaving her eyes, "and that was the first thing I did!" she remembered aloud, the memory causing us both to laugh as Frigga lifted the skirt of my nightgown to examine me. She continued, "he wouldn't spar with me for months after that!"_

"_You kicked the prince of Asgard in the face!" I laughed, defending his reasoning for not wishing to spar with her. We were all the closest of friends, and Thor took it as it was: an accident. However, as a running joke, he'd offer up anyone else to spar with her in order to get out of it. Every time she'd walk by him, he'd playfully flinch away from her, which would always elicit a laugh from us._

_She rolled her eyes, "I _**_did_**_ apologize!"_

"**_After_**_ kicking him in the f-"_

_Another contraction cut me off. They were happening much more frequently, and they were lasting longer. I squeezed my eyes shut and managed to swallow the yell of pain. Instead, it manifested itself into a strained exhale, covered up by the thunder cracking outside once more. The rain offered a constant diversion. Instead of focusing on the pain, I focused on the noise, the incessant beating of the rain on the roof. After a few labored breaths and a squeeze of Ephinea's hand, the pressure subsided once more, "you're doing so well," Ephinea murmured, reaching up to place the dampened washcloth on my forehead to help cool me. It felt like it sizzled against my fiery hot skin, but it helped relax me._

"_During this next contraction, Eva, I want you to take a deep breath when it starts to peak and then push with all you have, understand?" Frigga asked, her hand grasping my ankle to offer her support from where she was positioned at the foot of the bed._

_That was when it truly hit me. Even in a room filled with the people who loved me the most, there was someone missing, someone who should've been present. Loki. I hadn't thought much of his absence until that very moment when it sunk in that I would shortly be meeting our child. It finally dawned on me that the little life we created, the little life we spoke of on countless occasions, was about to be brought into the world, and I was the only one who was going to witness it. This was all wrong. I always dreamed of this day, but it was always with him at my side, laying in the bed next to me and holding my hand as he whispered sweet nothings into my ear and against my stomach, urging our child to join us in the world. In that moment, it finally occurred to me that those dreams were all I would ever have. Loki and I would only have this one child. We'd have no more, and there would be no more chances. The chances were spent. He was gone. The father of my baby...was _**_dead_**_._

_I shook my head, tears immediately beginning to stream down my cheeks, "I'm not supposed to do this alone. It was never supposed to be this way. I need Loki!" I cried, not ready for another contraction, not ready to be alone in this world, not ready to be a mother. Then, as if she could hear me, a voice spoke only to me, her voice echoing throughout my heart. I could often hear the planet below me when I felt the connection to her. Asgard and Earth had very distinct voices, but this one was the disembodied voice of life itself. I didn't have to ask or receive an answer. I knew this voice as if it had always been a part of me. The very essence of life was what I was so deeply connected to all my life, and she finally spoke her encouraging words to me._

**_You are ready._**

_Her words left me rejuvenated. They were invigorating and prepared me for whatever was to come. As Ephinea squeezed my hand, my tears dried almost immediately. The moment was going to be bittersweet, but it was going to be beautiful nonetheless. I was going to welcome into the world a child that would be the final piece of Loki I would have, and I would raise him or her to know of their father, to know the man he once was, to teach our child to be like the man I knew him to be. I would have time to mourn him, but I couldn't follow him just yet. I knew how devastated he would be to know that I left our child alone in the world, how disappointed he would be to know that I committed such a selfish act just to follow him into the abyss. The voice of my closest friend rang out, pulling me from my thoughts, "you have never been and never will be alone, Eva. We're all here for you, and I'd like to think I knew Loki well enough to say that he'd be where I am if he could. When you give birth to this baby, this world will know him again," she encouraged me, tears filling her eyes as she spoke of a man we were all so close to._

_My eyes met my father's worried deep brown ones. We had both tried to prepare for this, but the concept of childbirth frightened him. It was something none of us were prepared for, since the stakes were so high in this. This was my first child, I was keeping it a secret and didn't have the same extensive care that other Asgardian women had, and I had gone into labor much earlier than I had anticipated. When our eyes locked, he put on the most sincere smile he could offer in his time of mourning and worry, "it's time," I murmured the words he had been waiting for. He gave a curt nod of his head and walked over to the door, opening it to invite Sif, Thor, and Hjalmar into the room. Before going into labor, the decision of having a crowded room was still up in the air, but I wanted my child to be surrounded with as much love and affection as possible in their first moments. The men and women I had in the room would be the people who would love her all her life._

_When Thor, Hjalmar, and Sif entered the room, I gestured for Sif and Ephinea to sit on the bed with me. Ephinea pulled herself from the floor and sat at my side, her hand never leaving my own. Sif sat on my other side, intertwining our fingers for what she knew was to come. I gazed up at her, and she smiled, "up until this very moment, I thought a person had to be on the battlefield to be a strong warrior. You have proved me wrong," she stated, that flawless smile reaching her eyes that glowed like the reflection of the moon on the ocean._

_Giving Sif's hand a gentle squeeze, I turned my gaze over to Frigga. My father waited at the foot of the bed with her while Thor and Hjalmar stood quietly by the side of the bed that Sif was on. It looked as if they were both ready to jump into action the moment I showed any ounce of pain, both of them believing that they could somehow fight off the unyielding onslaught that childbirth was putting on my body. Frigga's eyes lightened as soon as ours met, and within her, I could hear the words that she didn't even need to speak. She believed in me. This was something that millions of women across the universe have done before me, and I wouldn't be the last. I gave a slight nod of my head, accepting the pain that was to come, knowing that the payment I would receive would be the life of my beautiful baby. Nova...or Aurora. Just thinking of those names made me smile, made my broken heart lighten, "I'm ready," I remarked, preparing myself for the future that was right in front of me._

_With that, another contraction began to build up, the pressure becoming more and more intense each second. I squeezed Ephinea and Sif's hand as Frigga moved down to the foot of the bed, ready to help me deliver the baby. My father sat beside her with a cloth in hand to clean him or her and wrap them up before handing them to me, "alright, Eva, take a deep breath and push through that pain," she instructed me, so I did as she said. I took a deep breath and bared down, using Sif and Ephinea as my strong foundation. The pushing didn't last as long as the rest of it. After less than eight rounds of pushing, it was over. By the time I felt that sweet release, I let out a long breath, truly astonished that I had done something that seemed so groundbreaking._

_That was...until silence fell in the room._

_There was no little cry, no joyous words being spoken. There was nothing._

_My eyes darted around the room, staring at the solemn faces as Ephinea patted my head with the damp cloth. Frigga's back was turned to me, facing my father, and I wondered if I had simply lost my hearing. When she turned around to face me, a motionless bundle in her arms, that little creak in the floor let me know that I hadn't lost my hearing, "it's a little girl, but...Eva-"_

_A girl._

"_Give her to me," I demanded, not willing to accept losing both Loki and our child. I couldn't do it. I reached out for her, wanting to hold her, wanting to give her the gift that I never deserved in the first place. When Frigga didn't move, the anger began to build up within me, and the cottage began to quake once more, "give her..._**_t__**o** me_**_," I stressed, my voice cracked as I wondered what death would feel like. I'd never been afraid of it until that very moment, until I realized that one of us wouldn't live through this._

_Frigga closed the space between us, "I'm so sorry, my beautiful child," she whispered, her bottom lip quivering as she was forced to mourn her son and her first born grandchild all at once._

_As she handed her to me, I held that tiny, lifeless little body against my own, and I smiled at that raven black hair. It was darker than Loki's had been. The tears I shed-the tears that blurred my view of her beautiful little face-were not for her, they were for all that I would miss. I would miss the woman she would grow into, the life she would lead, the way her eyes would light up like the sun. I would never know the sound of her laugh. I'd never be able to teach her the stories of the forest or the songs that the trees loved to hear, but at least she would live to discover the world and spread the unconditional love I had for her from the moment I discovered I was expecting, "I love you so much, little one," I whispered before beginning to transfer over to her the essence that kept me alive all this time. I had healed wounds before by transferring them over to myself, so why wouldn't this work the same way? Her life at the cost of mine. It was a trade I was more than willing to make._

_My father fell to his knees at the side of my bed as the room became darker, the storm continuing to rage on, "please, please just...take me instead," he begged, his hand clasping around my wrist as desperation filled his eyes._

_While I had transferred wounds from one to another, I wouldn't take the life of my father. My life was the one that needed to be traded for hers. I shook my head, "this is my gift to my child. Tell her stories of us. Never let her forget how much I loved her, and speak nothing but kind words of her father. Remind her that she was the best gift life could give me, a little princess that I had the honor of holding...even for just a moment. Tell her that my final act in this world was one of pure...unconditional love, and tell her that the only regret I have...is that we had only moments together," I insisted, reaching out to hold his hand as the tears cascaded down his cheeks, "promise me that she'll know nothing but love just as I did. Promise me that she'll be protected and live a life of laughter and wonder. Promise me that she'll be the strongest warrior Asgard has ever known, but she'll cherish even the lives of her enemies. Promise me that she'll be everything I was and everything I failed to be."_

_He sniffled, knowing that there was no way I would change my mind. His bottom lip quivered as he tried to collect himself enough to speak, "I promise that I'll give her the world, little wolf," he murmured, his voice cracking. I didn't want to put him through the pain of losing me, but my daughter deserved to know the beauty of life, and deep down, he understood my sacrifice because he would've made the same one. He failed at holding the tears back, "so you run out into that endless forest and feel the wind in your hair. You have fought well; you deserve to rest."_

_I continued to transfer my life essence into her, my body becoming weaker and weaker with each passing second, the room becoming darker and darker. I smiled down at her little body in my arms, color filling her cheeks, and I hummed the melody that I knew from a time I couldn't remember, "now, the stars shine brightest wherever you are, and they will shine on me no more," I sang before the darkness swallowed me._

_When I opened my eyes, I saw black ones staring straight back at me. They were familiar-_**_sad_**_. As her face faded into view, I didn't recognize her, but my heart knew her, like an old forgotten song, "not...yet…" she whispered before I felt her gentle hands on my shoulders. I knew her touch. I knew this woman. Death. She smiled a smile that made my heart cry out into the void. Somehow, I felt even more comfortable in her presence than I did in my father's strong arms as a child, which I thought to be impossible. Then, as I heard the echo of a baby crying in the distance, she shoved me back, and I fell like in a dream, my body jerking back to life as I sucked in a long breath._

_Ephinea threw her arms around me, still being sat at my side, "oh, Gods, Eva! What happened?" she cried, her warm tears wetting my shoulder._

"_I...don't know," I whispered, gazing around the room at the wet faces of the ones I loved, the ones I nearly left behind, the ones whose happiness I would've sacrificed for my daughter. It was worth it. Even as I stared Death in the eyes, I knew that the sacrifice was well worth it. I would've sacrificed everything, every ounce of who I was, for _**_her_**_. While I held Ephinea, I found my father's hopeful ones as he held my little princess in his arms. Pressing a kiss into Ephinea's hair, I pulled away from her and rested my forehead against hers, pouring out a part of my heart for her. When she pulled away, crawling over into Hjalmar's arms, a man she had taken a liking to when we were still in our youth, I turned to my father and held my arms out for the newest little Asgardian. The storm-in the time I had been gone-had ended, and the sky outside was beginning to brighten, the clouds not daring to cover the sun when it peaked over the horizon. As soon as Father handed her over to me, I gazed down at her, little green eyes staring back at me as the beauty of the world became more vivid than ever before. In that moment, there was a love I never could've imagined that stared right into my eyes._

_Her._

_The light of the morning sun filling the room as it showed itself on the horizon. The vibrant hues of yellow, orange, and light blue chased away the darkness of the night, the colors reaching through the trees and finding the two of us. The storm had parted for her, the darkness had lifted for her, the sun rose for her, I lived...for her. Seeing her face brightened every darkened corner of my tortured heart. She was exactly what Loki and I had dreamed of. She had his black hair, and she had my green eyes. I saw myself in them, and I suddenly felt complete even as a piece of me went missing months ago when Loki left. She was my miracle, my awakening, the start of my new life, "I've been waiting for you, little one," I whispered, tears of absolute, unbridled joy cascading down my cheeks as I looked upon the little life that was more beautiful than life itself, "and you'll be known as Aurora...the dawn of a new day."_


	26. The Greatest Failure

_We were nearing her first nameday, but Aurora had already grown significantly. At only a few months old, she was running around as if she were a child, and after almost an entire year, it seemed as if we were preparing to celebrate her 12th nameday instead of her first. While Asgardians had a much different youth than humans, we tended to age much slower; however, our youth passed us by just as quickly until we reached our later "teen" years. Then, the process would slow to a crawl. Everyone who knew of her existence-my father, Hjalmar, Sif, Ephinea, Heimdall, Thor, and Frigga-had all tried to make reason of her strange aging pattern. The accelerated nature of it worried me because I couldn't bear to outlive her. I refused to live a single day without her. It was a discussion that plagued many of my conversations with Heimdall, who spoke of the possibility that the occurrence could have been linked to the nature of her birth. She had been kissed by death but was given the essence of life, which could have caused her to age abnormally. Still, I couldn't think of it for too long without the unknown nature of it bringing about sorrow._

_I sat beneath the tree of life and death, watching her run through the tall grass of the meadow surrounding it, her raven hair flowing behind her. It was wild and untamed, just as her father's had once been. She reminded me of him more and more each passing day. Each time she laughed, I could hear him. She looked at me with the same admiration that he once had. She would sit with me beneath the tree and allow me to braid her wild hair back, and all the while, she would sing to me the same beautiful melodies that only Loki and I had known. There was something within her that just knew him, and I loved her all the more for it. She latched onto every single story I told her, and she was never afraid to ask questions about him, her vocabulary being just as colorful and beautiful as his had been._

_After a few weeks of me discovering motherhood, Thor and Ephinea sat down to tell me what had transpired with Loki. They told me everything from the devious plotting and the betrayal to the madness that seemed to swallow him. I didn't believe a single word of it until Thor allowed me to look into his mind and see his last memories of my trickster. The man I saw was _**_nothing _**_like the man I knew. He was crazed-thirsty for power and control. He was desperate, and it pained me to see the man I cared so deeply for in such a light. That wasn't the Loki I loved for a millenia. The man in Thor's memory was a stranger, and Aurora would never know of him. Instead, I told her often about her father, the man I fell in love with, the man who whispered words of love and support directly to my soul, the man I knew Loki was._

_She was exactly what I imagined. Her fair skin held only the smallest imperfections-a light dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks that matched the pattern of my own. However, while I was often self-conscious because of mine when Loki wasn't around to silence those insecurities, I saw those same imperfections as some of the most glorious, beautiful pieces of my daughter. They made her all the more beautiful. Her eyes became even more vibrant in the months following her birth. It was like I could see the very essence of life in her eyes. When I looked into them, I saw myself reflected in them, and I felt invincible. I felt like the woman she saw me as. In her eyes, I witnessed a version of myself that I never had before. I was her hero. I was her strong foundation, and she looked at me as if I were the most powerful force in all the universe. She looked at me like I was the most beautiful part of every day, like I was the sun that lit up her world, and I saw her in the same light. We shared the deepest connection possible, and Frigga noted that it was likely due to the gift I had given her._

_She was feral, just as I had hoped for. She was a princess by right, but she had a wildness about her. Instead of descending the stairs of our home, she would find herself swinging off the railings and jumping down to the ground floor of the cottage before bursting out the door and running through the woods. She had a wild spirit within her that brought me back to my youth, a wildness that shone in her eyes. She climbed trees and made friends with the animals in the forest. Whenever she called out to Eldfinn, the wolf with eyes that matched the fire in his soul, he came to her. He was a massive beast-much like the ones I often made friends with-and donned a coat that danced with the colors of a fire long dead-blacks and greys-but his eyes were truly captivating with hints of gold, red, and orange mixing together. She called him her "wandering fire" and named him thus._

_She wasn't lacking human contact, but her wild nature came from her constant need to explore. The only restrictions I had for her were that she wasn't to leave my sight without me, and she wasn't to leave the forest no matter what. I knew what Odin would do with her if he learned of her existence, so I kept her hidden with me. He would never know of her. He would never know her face or her name because if he did, he would try to take her from me. She would be charged with the crimes of her father, and I would commit the greatest treason. I would spill blood in the throne room, and I didn't feel guilty saying it. If anyone tried to take her from me, they would be met with fire. She was my secret, a treasure that didn't belong to anyone, not the world...not even me. She was as free as the wind that blew through her hair. She blossomed like the life around her._

_The mornings were met with beautiful songs because of her. Even though I would often find my way outside in the early hours of the morning to sing to the trees, Aurora had woken up every morning before the sun rose over the horizon, and she stood outside, watching the horizon through the trees. The moment before the sun peeked over the horizon, she would begin her sweet call, a melody that awoke the day. It was like she brought about the very dawn itself, singing out the song that the bright star knew, a song she seemed to be born with the knowledge of. In those early hours, when the world was just waking up, life blossomed in her presence. The flowers bloomed, the birds sang their sweetest songs, and the branches of the trees seemed to dance in tandem with her airy melody._

_Upon finishing the crown of flowers and leaves I had been constructing for her as I sat beneath the tree her father and I fell in love beneath, I gazed back over at her, watching as the dress Frigga had made for her rippled in the light breeze. She _**_looked_**_ like a little princess. She was the girl I used to be. She worried about nothing. She _**_feared _**_nothing except the occasional storm that would leave her crawling into bed with me, nestling her body as close to mine as possible until she fell asleep. She never slept during a thunderstorm unless she was with me, and that had been unchanging all throughout her life. She was the girl I missed, but that girl came to life in her eyes. She looked at me like I was still that girl, like she knew who I was deep down inside, "Aurora!" I called out to her, catching her lighthearted gaze with my own. I gestured her over to me, watching every move she made as she pranced over to sit between my legs, her back facing me. She knew exactly what I was requesting._

_Setting the crown of flowers onto the ground beside me, I picked up the brush and raked it through her hair, careful to not hurt her. She was strong but sensitive all at once. She felt the pain, but she rarely voiced her discomfort. I could vividly remember every scrape, scratch, bruise, and cut she received from playing too hard, and she would shrug it off. I knew that they were painful because as I transferred them over to myself, they would sting, and I couldn't imagine how amplified that was for a child. Gently brushing through her raven black hair, I envisioned my Loki again. This was something we partook in countless times over the millennia we were together. He would sit in front of me, his back facing me, and I would brush his hair and braid it back to give me a better view of that beautiful visage, features Aurora seemed to inherit. She reminded me of the gentleness I saw in Loki, and I found myself shedding tears at the moments of remembrance. She would say something or do something-the light could catch her in just the right way-and it would remind me of her father, a man I still felt inexplicably connected to. It was like the flame in my heart didn't die out like I thought it would if he made the journey before me, which he did._

_Once every tangle was brushed from her hair, I braided two strands from her temples to meet at the back of her head where I tied them together with a blue ribbon that matched Loki's eyes. Her hair was long, reaching the middle of her back. She liked to keep it long after I told her how fond her father had been of my long hair. He would've been so impressed with her, so infatuated with every little thing she did. She would've been his light when I was unable to be. Dragging the brush through her hair once more to ensure the tangles were completely gone, mindful of the braids I had already created, her voice emerged from the silence, "do you think that we could perhaps...go into town today?" she asked, her voice just as soft and sweet as she was._

_The question pained me each time she asked it, but it wasn't because it was hard to hear, it was because of how hard my response was to formulate. She wasn't allowed into the world outside for my fear that people would uncover the secret I had kept hidden away. She was a gift that I desired to share with the world, but it was a gift that could be tainted so quickly if people knew of her origin. It took some time for the Asgardians to see me as more than just another orphan girl. I had to prove myself, and my mistreatment ended in my youth when I began to blossom into a young woman. Loki, however, continued to suffer the mistreatment until people saw how taken we were by each other, which took much longer than I liked. People began to realize how willing I was to argue on his behalf, how offended I became when they spoke ill of him or toward him, how angry I was when they even looked at him the wrong way. They saw how deeply I loved him, and in time, their opinion of him changed. He was no longer cast aside as much, and the people began to love him when they saw how much he loved _**_me_**_._

_Even though the people of Asgard came around, I saw how their actions and words had affected him in the centuries that followed. He didn't feel worthy of anything he deemed to be good, and I was at the center of it. He looked at me as if I was an unattainable gift even when I promised my heart and soul to him. The words of others had torn him apart, and I was left picking up those pieces, trying to rebuild the boy I once knew, a boy who loved freely, a boy who sang to the trees with me, a boy who kissed me and didn't feel ashamed of the blush that overcame his cheeks and nose, a boy who drowned out the world that said we weren't meant for each other. He was a boy who knew his worth, but as we grew, he questioned it because of the years of being mistreated. I wouldn't allow our daughter to experience the same thing. I wouldn't allow them to prosecute her because of her father's actions. I wouldn't force upon her the pain of feeling unwanted, unloved, or unappreciated when her reality was so different in those woods. I stroked her hair back with my hand as she turned to face me, "oh, my sweet little wolf, you know you mustn't explore the world outside this forest," I murmured, pulling her closer to me._

"_But why mustn't I?" she asked that similar question. It was the one that always followed my insistence that she couldn't travel into town with me. She often asked Hjalmar and my father, but they gave her the same answer, knowing that it was for the best that she remain a secret. Her big green eyes cut through me and shattered my heart, "Hjalmar and Grandfather get to explore all the time! You go out into the world all the time! Why is it that I'm kept hidden away in the forest? Why can't I see the world as you do? Why am I not allowed to do as _**_you _**_do?"_

_I pressed a kiss to her forehead before nuzzling my face against hers, "you have no idea how badly I wish for you to be able to explore as much as you desire, Aurora. I want you to be as free as anyone else, but the world outside these woods can be cold and harsh. The people of Asgard won't understand you," I explained once more, sounding too much like my father._

"_But they'll never understand me if I'm locked away," she replied, her voice filled with so much sorrow. Those words. I knew those words. I spoke those words as a child. I could vividly remember my burning desire to explore the villages outside the forest. I wanted to know what the world had in store for me, but my father kept me hidden away like I had done to Aurora. I remembered how devastating it was each time he would deny my request to venture too far from the house, how disheartened I would become when he would deny my request to go into town with him and Hjalmar. I had been kept a secret once, too, so the pain that came with it wasn't lost on me. I knew what she was feeling because I felt it myself at one point. I had hoped for so long that I'd be able to give my child a different life, a life without constraints. She shouldn't have to understand the injustices of the world, but she was forced to._

_I sighed, swallowing back the lump in my throat. I had to remain strong for her sake, "the forest and our home is the safest place for you, little one. I know that it's unfair. I want you to explore more than my own desire to explore the universe itself, but it's just not the right time for such things. Perhaps when you're older, we can discuss it again," I spoke the harsh words as gently as possible, holding her close to me as I felt the very heart within her breaking at the unfair truth. Odin was the one I was truly afraid of. He was the one who could tear my life apart. It didn't sit well with me that Loki and I had a beautiful relationship up until the point that he spoke to his father, so whatever that conversation had been about, I blamed Odin for the fate of our relationship. I also blamed myself. Perhaps if I had told Loki that I was pregnant before he left to speak with his father, which was something I was on the brink of telling him before he left, he would be here to witness his daughter's beauty, grace, and wild nature._

_Hjalmar's unannounced presence beside me startled me, but he didn't catch me completely off guard as Aurora's eyes locked on him before he spoke in my defense, "the outside world is a big place with small people who don't know how to treat those who aren't..._**_dull_**_ like them!" he noted, a grin playing on his lips that seemed to bleed onto Aurora's. They were close. They were just as inseparable as Hjalmar and I had been as children and harbored a love for one another that was only strengthened by their protective instincts over each other. When Hjalmar readied himself to ride out into battle, she would fight him to stay, shedding tears as she begged him not to leave. I saw myself in her. His words in that moment, however, shocked me, and my jaw hung slack as I processed what he said. My eyes locked with his blue ones, and he shrugged his shoulders, feeling my playful judgement, "what? I speak the truth!" he defended himself, raising his hands to surrender._

_I snickered before turning my gaze back to the emerald eyes that matched mine, ones I regarded as far more beautiful than any sight I'd ever had the honor of gazing upon, "Asgard can be a dangerous place for people who go against the grain. You didn't choose your name or who you were born to, but people can hold prejudices against others for who their parents are," I murmured, knowing those injustices firsthand. It was a difficult concept to grasp, one I still couldn't understand. Too many nights, I'd lay awake and wish for the ability to create a world just for her, but wishing never brought me anything in life. I would have to change the world for her, and I was prepared to do so._

_Her voice pulled me from my feelings of guilt, "but I _**_want_**_ to be like you! I want to be like father!" she insisted, her voice cracking as it often had when she brought him up. We spoke of him, and I knew that she had an innate love for a man she never even met. She loved him so deeply and so freely that his loss hurt her just as much as it hurt me, a woman who was in love with him for a millennia. Hearing her speak of him, hearing how eager she was to be like us, brought tears to my eyes, "I would never do anything to taint our family name, and if the Asgardians hold prejudices against me for who my family is, it will be clear to me that they don't know you well enough. I just want to be someone who would make you proud, someone my father would be proud of," she sniffled, a few stray tears streaming down her cheeks._

"_Oh, Aurora," I whispered, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close. Hjalmar lowered himself onto the ground beside me as I held her to my chest. I fought back the tears, finding my strength in my brother just as I had for so long, "I am __so__ proud of the little woman you've become. I am **so** proud of the woman you will become. I've loved you since before you were born, since before you were even conceived. Your father and I spoke of our future children all the time, and you're exactly what we always dreamed of. If he could see you right now-" my voice cracked as the tears stung my eyes. My bottom lip quivered as I thought of the future we had planned, a future I was living without him. I pulled away just enough to tilt her head up to look at me, "if he could see you right now...he would be _**_so proud_**_," I murmured, pressing my lips to her forehead as her bottom lip continued to tremble. It broke my heart that she was hurting. If I could take that pain away, I would have done so in a heartbeat. I would take on every ounce of heartbreak if it meant she experienced none of it. That was the truth, though. Loki would have been enthralled by her. I thought I knew what love was with just him. He showed me a romantic love that I was still learning to live without, and I never imagined I could love another living thing more than him, but she came along and opened a new window into my soul. She was everything, and he would've loved her more than he ever could've loved me. She would've been _**_our_**_ pride and joy, but I was forced to value such a beauty all on my own._

"_Your father was one of my closest friends growing up, and I can tell you something right now, princess, he would have been your best friend, too," Hjalmar grinned, trying to lighten the mood, "he used to create these illusions and place them around the cottage in order to scare me. He even shapeshifted into grandfather at one point to find a way to get your mother out of the house. Your father was a ball of mischief, but he was one of the kindest men I knew, and I know how proud he would be to have a daughter like you. Wherever he is, his heart is full because of your mere existence," he continued, tears appearing even in those blue eyes that had been so strong through all of this. Hjalmar mourned Loki just as my father did, but there was a special connection the two of them share. I could still vividly remember Hjalmar's threat to Loki that should my love hurt me, he'd be dead by dawn. If Loki had been anyone else, Hjalmar would've kept his promise, and I had no doubt in my mind, but when I came home crying that day, Hjalmar held me all through the night and shed tears with me._

_I pressed one more kiss into her hair before placing the crown of flowers and leaves upon her head. It was so similar to the one Loki and I used to make for each other. He would spend hours putting together the perfect crown, telling me that it must be suited for the queen of the forest. He placed so much love and admiration upon me. Every moment we were together, he looked at me as so much more than just an orphaned girl with no name, no home, no claims. He called me a princess, a goddess, a queen, and he treated me like a woman with such power that even I doubted. I didn't see myself the way he saw me, and he never saw himself through my eyes, either. I always believed it was because love blinded us, but he was aware of my flaws, too, just as I was with his. He was too cold sometimes, and when he was angry, he would become much more calculating. He would bottle up his frustrations until he began bursting at the seams, and there were moments when it lead to arguments between the two of us. He had flaws-just as we all did-but they were met with such beautiful, perfect parts of him. He could be cold and calculating in his frustration and anger, but the rest of the time, he was sweet and warm. He could bottle up his frustrations until they burst out of him, but he knew how to apologize, and he always meant it._

_The crown I made for Aurora was fitting for a princess, which she was by right. She had a claim to the throne, but it would've been passed along to Thor at some point, and should he have children, they would be his successor. Still, she was a princess. As she stood up and took off toward the woods, calling out for Eldfinn, Hjalmar and I continued to sit by the tree in silent remembrance of the pieces of our hearts that had been lost in Loki's absence. We both watched as the massive wolf emerged from the tree line, his grey and black coat shimmering in the sunlight. He made his way over to Aurora, and she pressed her forehead against his, running a hand through his fur. He stood just as tall as she was, just a bit smaller than some of our horses, but she was never afraid of him. The were close friends, much like the wolves I surrounded myself with growing up. They never caused me any harm, and Eldfinn wouldn't hurt Aurora. The animals of the forest understood me, and they understood the boundaries of their wild nature. My family wasn't their prey, and neither was I. They were peaceful to us, and with time, they became our protectors._

"_You two are so similar," he mused, catching my gaze. He watched her play with Eldfinn, and I watched as his eyes sparkled with memories that seemed so long ago. His words were a compliment for me. She was the most precious thing in my life, and for him to compare her to me brought me so much pride, "every time I look at her, I see you. It's not just because she has your eyes, either. It's because she has your heart," he added, his blue eyes finally meeting mine. It was the similar clash of when the land finally met the sea. There was a gold ring around his pupils that bled out into the blue of his irises that matched the shores of Midgard, so his eyes looked eerily similar to the beaches Loki and I would frequent. Hjalmar had occasionally accompanied the two of us, but it often took much convincing, since he didn't want to intrude on my time with Loki._

_The smile that pulled at his full lips was contagious, and I found myself grinning up at him, "I look at her, and I feel like I'm a boy again, watching you run through this same meadow, playing with the wolves you named against Father's wishes. It's as if I'm reliving my most precious memories. She looks at me the way you do, too, like I'm somehow I man worthy of the world even after all the mistakes I've made, after all the lives I've taken in battle. You two look at me with a love I've never deserved but one I could never turn away no matter how guilty I feel accepting it. She reminds me of the girl that never died within you. That girl, the one who's still curious, the one who still wishes to explore, the one who is capable of bringing about change, she's still there within you. She never died. She never even retired or cast herself into the deep recesses of your heart. She's always been at the surface, and I see her from time to time. I see her when you smile, when you laugh, when you admire the branches of the trees because they look like arms reaching out to hold each other, when you tease me for being clumsier than just about any other Asgardian, and when I watch you love. I still know that girl so well," he smiled, leaning over to bump me with his shoulder._

"_And what of the boy within you?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow._

_He snickered, "he's still alive and well. That's why you and I are still best friends. You keep him alive," he confessed, his eyes dancing with words that remained unspoken. Hjalmar and I had always been closer than anyone else. My father and brother were the first men I loved in my life, and they both taught me what love should be like. Love wasn't painful, and love didn't break your heart. Love was gentle, peaceful, and _**_kind_**_. They were the ones who taught me that, and then, they hoped that I would carry that knowledge and that ability to love out into the world with me. I did. That was how I met Loki, and that was how our love spanned over a millennia; it was all because of the love my family instilled in me. Hjalmar's sparkling, world-brightening smile bled over to me once more, "and the only reason why she's my favorite person is because she's the product of the two people I've loved the most in my life: you and Loki."_

_I could sense the bittersweetness in his voice, so I reached out and grasped his hand in mine, intertwining our fingers. It seemed as if my hands were lost in his. He had the strong hands of a warrior, and while mine had seen just as much time on the battlefield, my fingers were slender-those of a lover, not a fighter. It seemed as though we both contradicted our own hands. Mine saw far more war, and his saw far more peace. I forced myself into his spot on the battlefield, afraid that he would be taken from me too soon. I would force Odin's hand on many occasions, telling him that he could have only one of us, that it wasn't fair for our father to send away both of his children. Many times, the Allfather bent to my will, but many times, he sent both of us, and there had been the rare circumstances that he sent Hjalmar _**_instead_**_ of me. Still, I became one of Asgards most proficient warriors to keep the ones that I loved safe, to keep them out of harm's way. Hjalmar's hands were built for war, but I refused to lose him to it, so instead, my hands lost themselves in his, "I have faith that the man who broke my heart wasn't the one who filled it with love for a millennia. I think he still harbored so much love for us, and I know it's no consolation, but...you were one of his favorite people, too," I promised, recalling the countless times that Loki looked forward to seeing my family, to being around us as we sat in front of the fire, to speaking with Hjalmar about the things they had in common. Loki had just as much love for my father and brother as he did for me, but it was because they treated him as one of our own._

_Hjalmar's eyes filled with tears that he rarely let fall. It was the closest he came to crying most of the time, "I was supposed to go before him. That was my plan. My biggest fear in life has always been losing more people I love. I still have a vague memory of the last time I saw my parents," his voice trailed off as the memories he only spoke of twice crossed over his eyes. His father had perished in battle, and his mother took her own life in the night after she put Hjalmar to bed. The sight was one he witnessed the next morning. He hadn't even reached his third name day at the time, so the scene was both confusing and traumatizing. He didn't have a good relationship with death, though, but his words were shocking to me. He continued, "I never wanted to lose someone I was so close to again. I loved my parents, but as I grew up, there were other people in my life who I loved just as much if not even more. Father was one of those people, and when I first met you, I loved you from the moment you looked at me. Then, there was Loki and Thor. There was Ephinea and Sif. There have been others who have fallen on the battlefield along the way, but I wasn't as close to them as I am with the small group I've kept close in my heart, so my plan was always to go before any of you. I couldn't face that pain again, but here we are," he murmured, gesturing to the meadow that knew our presence, the one that felt Loki's absence._

_His words broke my heart, "you are still here for a reason, brother," I spoke, reaching up to stroke my fingers through his full beard, "you are here because fate wouldn't allow me to lose everyone all at once. I love you, and if I had to lose you after already losing Loki...if I had to lose you _**_ever_**_, I don't know what I would do. I'd be lost," my voice cracked at the mere thought of having to face my life without my best friend._

"_You'd be strong," he insisted, nothing but admiration in his eyes, "but you don't get to die before me," he teased, a grin overcoming his lips as he tried to lighten the mood as always._

_I smiled up at him, giving his hand a light squeeze, "I suppose we'll both be forced to live forever, then, because you don't get to die before me, either. I won't let you," I replied, almost as if I was challenging him. Then, there was that alarm that carried from the Bifrost all the way to the middle of the forest where I sat. It was one I only heard a small handful of times. I had charged Heimdall to watch over my Midgardians, and when they were in danger, he would make the alarm. This was it. Before Hjalmar could stop me, I scrambled up to my feet and sprinted in the direction of the cottage, "look after her!" I yelled back to him, my words seeming to echo through the meador. The branches of the trees made way for me as the fearful tears stung my eyes. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, so there was no way Hjalmar would've been able to catch up. By the time I had reached the cottage, passing by my father in the stables, my sword and shield were waiting for me by the door. With one quick glance, I knew it was my father's doing. All I had left was to dress myself in the armor that was crafted specifically for me._

_When I entered my room, my armor was already laid out on my bed, almost as if he knew that I would be leaving as soon as he heard the alarm. It took me almost no time at all to reach the cottage, so I knew he must've worked quickly. I pulled on the armor, strapping it securely to my body. It was similar to Sif's, but mine was a bit lighter to allow for quicker movement. I tied my hair back and gave a quick glance at myself in the mirror before exiting my room and holding my hand out for Soulkeeper. Within seconds, the sword moved itself through the air, the hilt of it landing securely in my palm. I strapped the sword to my back along with the intricately designed shield and hurried out of the cottage. In the distance, I saw Aurora running toward the cottage with Hjalmar close behind her and Eldfinn even closer behind him. Hjalmar continued to call out for her, but she ignored every desperate plea for her to stop._

_Knowing that they would arrive before I left, I turned my attention to the stables right as my father emerged with a rope in his hands, leading Aria from the stable. I didn't like riding her with reins, and it was perfectly safe for me. It felt constricting to put such a wild beast in captivity. She stayed with us on her own terms. She was never locked away in the stables, and if she desired to leave, she did. She had often disappeared in the night and had returned in the early hours of the morning. She was still just as wild as the day I found her, but she always found her way back to me. I could bring myself to restrict her all the time. When she saw me, those deep black eyes seemed to glimmer, and she broke away from my father, trotting over to me. She used her nose to nudge me toward her as if she was pulling me in for an embrace. I stroked a hand over her coat before breaking away when I heard Aurora approach, "where are you going?" she asked, her green eyes boring into my own._

"_I'm going to Midgard. Heimdall made the alarm that there is a need for me there," I answered, having no other details to give her. Even if I did, I wasn't sure if I could._

_Hjalmar finally stopped once he reached us, and he heaved, trying to catch his breath, "I tried to stop her, but...she's fast," he noted._

"_I don't want you to go," Aurora interjected, her voice small and filled with fear. When I met her eyes again, I saw the unshed tears in them. She was terrified of me leaving her, and I knew that feeling. Whenever my father rode off into battle, I would beg him to stay. I would beg and plead with him to take me with him, showing him that I could potentially hold my own on the battlefield even when I was still just a child. No matter how much I tried to convince him, though, he always left, telling me that one day, I would understand. This was the day. My heart broke as I thought of having to break the heart of a princess. She continued, "please, don't leave me!"_

"_I won't be gone long," I promised her, unsure of whether or not I'd be able to keep that promise. There was always a level of risk that was involved in my trips to Midgard. Oftentimes, I was going there in dangerous circumstances, so I was sure this would be no different. Still, I would fight death all the way. I pulled her close to me, holding her as tightly as I could without breaking her, "I'll be back before you know it, and I miss you already, little wolf," I smiled, pulling away from her and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She couldn't see me cry before I left. It would only serve to worry her more._

"_I love you, mother," she whispered, wrapping her arms around me and holding me as tightly as possible._

_I smiled, reminding myself of how lucky I was to have this type of love even if it was just for a while, "I love _**_you_**_, little wolf," I replied, repeating the same words my father had all my life. I was his little wolf, and she was mine. I gave a short glance at both Hjalmar and my father, the latter giving me the nod of approval that I needed to leave her with them. He had made countless promises to keep her safe and raise her with love should anything happen to me, but I just needed to know that I was making the right decision. The simple gesture was more than enough for me. When I pulled away from her, she scurried over to Hjalmar who scooped her up into his arms._

_I pulled myself up onto Aria's back, straddling her body with my legs and finding that familiar, perfect balance. My eyes locked with Hjalmar's once more, "remember, Eva, I'm first," he reminded me with a contagious smile before waving me away, knowing that I was needed elsewhere. I clutched the familiar section of Aria's mane before riding off through the forest along the path we always took. I was unable to look back at my family for fear that my love for them would stop me from leaving, for fear that her loving eyes would keep me from fulfilling my destiny, which had always been to protect the ones I loved so deeply. Instead, I poured every insecurity, every ounce of fear into Aria, and she pushed herself faster and faster with every passing second. She knew how fearful I was, and she wanted me to have answers to the questions that threatened to burn through me. I was always at a breaking point, and she felt that within me. If I wasn't fearful of taking her to Earth with me, she would've accompanied me. However, I already had more than enough unwanted attention as it was, and she would only pull more of it._

_When we arrived just outside the Bifrost, she knelt to grant me an easy departure from her back, the magnificent beast standing taller than even Hjalmar, who was massive. She was huge, but she was graceful. Once I retreated from her back, I gestured for her to run back home where she would either return to the stables or wander through the forest until I was close to returning home. Father claimed that she seemed to know when I would be returning, as he wouldn't even have to announce that I was coming back. Instead, she would leave the comfort of the stables and return with me. She took off back toward the forest, and I turned on my heel to enter Heimdall's observatory that had been rebuilt in the time between Loki's fall and this moment. Entering it, I saw the man I often watched the stars with, but he looked like he had seen a ghost, "what happened?"_

_He swallowed hard, fear and disbelief clouding his amber eyes, "it's Loki."_

* * *

_The ride back to the cottage from the palace felt both excruciatingly long and far too short all at once. Thor insisted on accompanying me back to my home, especially after the trauma we both experienced on Midgard. We thought Loki to be dead, and the man I saw, the man I looked upon...wasn't the man I fell in love with. He was different. He was overcome with madness. I declined Thor's invitation to see me back to the cottage, knowing that I needed time to think. The ride back would help me sort through the various emotions I didn't have time for on Midgard. My emotions had run rampant from the moment Heimdall told me of Loki's presence on Midgard to being betrayed by him in New York to escorting him back to the palace and didn't stop even in that very moment. Leaving him at the palace was both the most difficult thing I had to do and the easiest thing I could think of doing. Seeing him hurt me in ways I couldn't think of._

_He wasn't Loki anymore._

_His presence on Asgard threatened everything I had built in his absence. I had a daughter, a life that I was meant to protect from every horror in this world. Her safety was of utmost importance to me, but what if...being with me was the most dangerous place for her to be. Loki's mood had shifted multiple times from the time we met on Midgard to the moment I left him in the palace. In New York, he nearly killed me, but his words of love and guilt kept me from giving in completely. Then, when we finally brought him back to Asgard, he was screaming at me, telling me that it was my fault that he was in chains. If I hadn't interferred, he wouldn't be Asgard's newest prisoner. Instead, he'd be a King on Midgard. He threatened me that should he ever escape, I would be the first one he would pay a visit to, implying that he would finish what he started on Midgard. He threatened to end my life, and should he truly wish to hurt me the way he did in New York, Aurora would be the first person he went after._

_Aria felt my need to grapple with my thoughts, so she slowed to a swaying walk once we entered the forest. I didn't want the people of Asgard to watch me struggle with my emotions. The people knew me as a strong leader, someone who lead many of Asgard's battles. I wasn't supposed to fall apart. This wasn't the person they knew. Aria, with her keen ability to sense everything about me, all of my doubts and fears and concerns, gave me the time I needed to understand my own mind. Loki was a danger, and I saw that firsthand in New York. If it wasn't for Tony, the city would've been decimated, including all of us, and that was because of what Loki had brought upon. He brought the Chitauri to New York with the hopes of laying waste and taking control of the planet we had both loved so dearly at one point. He proved himself to be dangerous, and that was especially true when it came to me._

_He was my weakness, and the other Midgardians could see it. It was no surprise to Steve, since he knew the history I had with Loki, but no one else was aware. They saw the difference between when I was fighting the Chitauri and when I was with Loki. I was a warrior, but I became nothing more than putty in his hands. Should he escape from the dungeons, which was a very real possibility, I would be his first target, of that I was sure. Should he find me, what would stop him from hurting the rest of my family? What would stop him from killing my father and brother? Would I be able to stop him? Would I be able to fight him..._**_kill_**_ him? I was uncertain of the answers, which only made me more fearful. What would I do with Aurora? Would I run away with her to Midgard? What if he found me there? What if he hunted me down and hurt her in an attempt to bring about the most pain imaginable for me?_

_The questions flooded my mind until Aria and I made came into view of the cottage. The moment I saw it, the moment the tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I cried the whole way back from Midgard. As Thor and I trailed behind Loki and the guards that met us at Heimdall's observatory, I allowed the tears to fall. I wouldn't let Loki see me cry, though. I refused to let him watch me as I cried because he didn't deserve to win like that, not after all he had done. He wanted to hurt me. Every word was dripping with hatred, a burning anger that left cuts on my very soul. Asgard wasn't my home anymore, or at least it didn't feel like it. Loki's fall took my happiness, but I found it again in Aurora. I found a purpose in her, but having Loki back in the state he was in made me fear everything that I'd never been fearful of. I was afraid of falling asleep because I didn't know if he would find a way out of his cell and kill me or hurt my family. I was afraid of raising our daughter because I didn't know if she would be taken from me at any second._

_Loki took away my security._

_The sky was nearly black as I rode toward the cottage, Aria continuing to walk as slowly as she could. I could see that my father was busying himself tending to the garden, the torch still lit. It would be lit until I made my presence known at the house. It had been lit since the day Loki fell. He would light the torch and leave it lit throughout the night as a sign that our home-like our hearts-was still awaiting his return. It was our way of paying homage to him. It symbolized that our home would never be complete without him. He was still in our hearts, and I still couldn't bring myself to cast him out even after everything on Midgard. I smiled lightly at the sentiment. Hjalmar stood beside one of the trees that lined the path, staring up at the branches. When my eyes followed his, I saw her up amongst the branches. She stared down at him, and I found that I was finally within earshot. Hjalmar's voice was stern as he spoke to her, "it's getting ready to storm, Aurora!" he called up to her._

_Loki and I used to climb the trees in the forest when we were younger, and we'd often do so as children, watching as my father returned from battle. Hjalmar liked to stay grounded, so he would call up to us with worried voices, telling us that Father didn't want us up in the trees for too long. He would often tell us that we could get hurt should we fall, but we didn't. The secret to not getting hurt while falling was to not fall in the first place. In that moment, I wished someone had told me that before I fell for the God of Mischief. Aurora's voice rang out, pulling me from my sorrow and adding that bittersweetness into my heart, "I'm not coming down until she gets back or until you send me with her," she argued as I finally got close enough to see the frown that looked so unnatural on her lips. Aria stepped on a twig, pulling her attention, and I watched as the frown turned into a wide grin, "mother!" she beamed, hurriedly scrambling out of the tree, jumping down when she was still a bit too high up, causing Hjalmar to lunge for her and catch her in his arms. She pushed herself away from him, running over to me, that smile filling my heart with joy that had been pushed so far away in New York._

_I slid off Aria's back, and ran a hand through her mane before she ran off into the woods to take some time to be alone. Without a single word, I bent down and lifted Aurora into my arms, holding her close to me. Even though she had grown exponentially since her birth, she was still my baby. I held her tightly against my chest, wishing that things were different, wishing that our lives had been different. She deserved the world, and I couldn't give that to her. I was failing her. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and every catastrophe, every life that was lost, every heartache I experienced on Midgard just fell to the wayside. All that I could feel in that moment was the sheer amount of unconditional love she harbored for me. She didn't know the woman who failed the children in the orphanage. She didn't know the woman who had nearly been killed because she couldn't bring herself to fight the man she loved. She didn't know the woman with the weaknesses. She knew me as her mother, and I felt that love so profoundly in that moment._

_Casting a stray gaze at Hjalmar, I brushed past him and walked toward the house as the thunder began to roll in. It wasn't Thor's doing. It seemed as if the world could feel my heartache, the conflict within me. She wanted to grieve with me, and the thunder symbolized her cries. The droplets of rain that began falling, catching themselves in Aurora's hair, were her tears. She felt this with me. I carried Aurora into the cottage, Hjalmar and our father following close behind. I didn't speak a single word as we entered the cottage, the only noise from the creaky front door opening in front of me and closing behind Father. I sighed as I sat on the chair in front of the fireplace, listening to the rain begin to fall on the leaves outside. Hjalmar and Father sat in the other chairs opposite me as Aurora situated herself on my lap, keeping her arms wrapped around my body, "why are you sad?" she asked such a simple question, but it seemed so profound in that moment._

_I didn't know how to answer her question. I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't explain to her that the man I believed to be dead all this time-her father-was alive and just laid waste to a city. I couldn't explain to her that her father was no longer the man I knew, was no longer the man I fell in love with or the man she envisioned him to be. She had the most beautiful words to speak about him. If I told her of the horrible crimes he committed, he would've turned from a dream into a nightmare. It would have been worse than mourning him, which was something we had done together. I had to both mourn the man Loki once was and experience the pain and fear of the man who had the same face and voice, the same pained look in his eyes, but he was cruel, which was something my love was not. I couldn't tell her of what happened on Midgard, so I settled for a vague answer, "I saw someone I didn't think I'd see again," I replied, catching the eyes of my father and Hjalmar, which filled with confusion._

_Before I could respond to their looks of confusion with a cryptic answer, Aurora piped up again, "who?" she asked, pulling back just far enough to catch my gaze with her own. She looked so concerned, so _**_protective_**_. It was similar to how I had looked at my father when I was a child. I had always been willing to take on the world if it meant that he was safe. I could still recall the countless times I readied my childhood horse, ready to escape in the night to ride into battle for him. I would pack up my sword and shield that I could barely hold upright at the time, and I would pack a few days rations into the saddle bag. He would almost always catch me right before I rode off, though, and if he didn't, he caught me on the path leading away from the house. Each time, though, I would see my protective gaze mirrored back at me in his dark brown eyes, and I saw the same look in that moment with Aurora, "Grandfather says that he'll show me how to wield a sword tomorrow, so I'll be able to protect you from them," she promised, looking proud._

_I cast a concerned glance over at my father, surprised that he would allow her to wield a sword at such a young age. It took some time before he allowed me to wield a sword, but I also knew how persistent she could be. He shrugged his shoulders, a lighthearted smile forming on his lips that made my heart hurt. I glanced back at her, "why would you want to wield a sword?" I asked, glossing over her question of _**_who_**_ the person was. There was no way I could explain it without opening up a can of worms that neither of us were ready for. Father and Hjalmar looked confused, but they left they remained silent, knowing that their questions would be answered in due time._

_She paused for a moment, looking for the right words to say, the quiet crackling of the firewood filling the silence in the room that was left with the absence of her voice, "well..._**_you_**_ wield one," she finally answered, her eyes locking with mine. It was at that very moment, that small, inconsequential moment in, that I realized just how much she loved me. We were connected by more than just the star we were forged from. We were connected through the life force that I shared with her. My very soul had bled into hers on the day she made her grand entrance into the world, and we had been inseparable since. However, it was in those little words that I realized how pivotal my role was in her life. She looked at me as if I was the world. I was her hero, the stars in the night sky, the very foundation she stood upon. I was everything to her, and she was everything to me._

_When that finally dawned on me, I wished to cry out for mercy, but I couldn't. All I could do was swallow back the lump in my throat as I gave her a pat on the back, "go get ready for bed, and I'll meet you in there in a moment. Leave us to speak," I insisted, pressing a kiss to her forehead before she crawled out of my lap and wished a goodnight to the two men in the room who put on convincing smiles for her sake. She would sleep with me that night. As I gazed out of the windows and listened to the rain pour down against the roof of the cottage, I knew that she would be taking over the bed. She couldn't sleep alone during a storm. Since she was born, she would crawl into bed with me before the first raindrop even fell, almost as if she could sense the storm in her bones. That night, I would be thankful to have her in my arms. After all that happened on Midgard, I needed the security that holding her would bring me._

_Once she disappeared into the other room to change, I stood up from my chair and closed the space between my father and I. Resting myself on his lap, I wrapped my arms around him, needing to be held by someone. I needed my father. I needed my protector. I'd never grow out of that, no matter how many battles I fought, no matter how far I roamed, no matter how many places I saw. He protected me from the horrors of the world and only let me see the good that the world had to offer, which played a part in how deeply I loved everyone and everything. I saw death and destruction, but I forced myself to believe that it was done by people who hadn't been given the same love and patience that I had been so lucky to receive. They had witnessed too much misery in their lives, and they knew nothing but chaos. I tried to see the good, and that part of me wouldn't have been as strong had I not known so much acceptance and mercy from the people I surrounded myself with. My father was the greatest example of that mercy. Hjalmar and I were not his blood, but he treated us as nothing less than that. After what I had seen on Midgard, after what I witnessed and what I'd been through, I became a child again. I needed my father._

_His arms wrapped around my waist, and I melted into his embrace as my eyes locked onto the fire. I watched as the flames licked the cobblestone, dancing with each other in perfect sync with one another. It was how I envisioned Loki and I for a thousand years. We were two wispy flames connected to the same raging fire, dancing in tandem with one another. We knew we couldn't burn each other, and I had faith that he wouldn't burn me. Every now and then, our individual flames would bleed into each other, the joining of two souls that had been connected since the beginning. We were the eternal twins, our love symbolized by the fire. However, when I saw him in New York, I realized how wrong I was. We were suddenly fire and water. We were detrimental to each other, no longer able to dance as we had since the beginning of time. Fate twisted us so that we were given the ability to ruin the other, but he was the one who took that opportunity. I would never._

"_It was Loki," I whispered, my voice cracking the moment I said his name. They were both silent, and I knew that it was because they understood that I wasn't finished explaining. They wouldn't pester me with the questions because I didn't leave any stone unturned with them. Finding the strength I needed to continue, I took a deep breath, "he survived the fall from the bridge, and he was on Earth. I was...he wasn't _**_Loki_**_, though. This was a man with his face, his voice, his _**_name_**_, but the things he did...the chaos and destruction he brought with him was...on an otherworldly level. I almost didn't return," I confessed, feeling the way my father tensed up. Loki was like a son to him, but I didn't even have to tell him what happened for him to know that it was Loki's doing. My father would've sacrificed his own life to ensure that Loki was safe, but I listened to the way his breath hitched in his throat, almost like breaking glass, "he killed nearly one hundred people, and the army of Chitauri he brought with him...took the lives of hundreds more. I...did everything I could to stop him, but I couldn't kill him. I couldn't do it," I trembled, my voice giving way as the tears betrayed me and streamed down my cheeks._

_I thought of the children in the orphanage. I thought of the way Loki looked at me like I was nothing. I thought of how it felt when he plunged the dagger into me-one of twin daggers that I gifted to him. I thought of the anger and madness in his eyes when I told him that I still loved him as he pressed the same dagger to my throat before he ruthlessly attacked me. I thought of the conflict when he crawled over to me, holding me in what he thought were my last moments. I thought of how he begged me not to leave him, how he wept when he thought I was about to fade into the darkness. I thought of how he pleaded with me to stay with him as my body healed just enough for me to head into the battle. He was afraid that I would be killed if I left, and I could vividly remember that fear in his eyes. I thought of how quickly he turned against me once more when we finally captured him. Thor had to be the one to put restraints on him, and after Loki mocked Steve and set his sights on me, Thor covered his mouth with the muzzle, knowing that Loki would only have snarky comments to make at me. Thor understood just how deeply the situation in New York was hurting me. Loki didn't even understand the depth of it because he didn't know about Aurora._

_Hjalmar rose from his chair next to my father and sat in the same spot that he did when we were younger. When I was sat atop our father's lap, Hjalmar would position himself on the floor at his feet to be closer to me. He would rest his head against Father's knee, and he would reach up to hold one of my hands. As our palms met in that moment, I felt my burden lighten. I continued to weep, though, as my father held me tightly, keeping me pressed against his chest. His voice cut through the soft sobs that were muffled by his strong torso, "breathe, little one. You were made strong enough to weather any storm. You will make it through this one, too," he whispered, rubbing my arm._

_I took a deep breath, trying to work through the heavy emotions. Seeing him again, especially in the state that he was in, was like cutting my heart apart along the same scars that it received when he left me or when I thought he had fallen to his death. Those were the most sensitive spots, so it hurt even worse, "what of Aurora?" I asked, voicing the only concern on my mind. As soon as I mentioned her, the fire seemed to silence its crackling as the walls absorbed every sound in the room. The silence was deafening. Hjalmar's hand tensed in mine, and no one even dared to breathe. I spoke as the silence began crushing me more than the various scenarios had, "when we were escorting him to the palace, he promised to escape, and when he did, this would be the first place he would visit. He wants to kill me. He wants to finish what he couldn't on Midgard. He's angry with me, and...what if he hurts her? What if he escapes and comes here?"_

"_We'll be prepared," Hjalmar interjected, his voice cutting through my panic. I lifted my head and caught his supportive gaze, "if he comes here and tries to hurt her, I will bury him in the ground. Family or not, he'll meet my axe if he comes here with ill intent for either of you."_

_I shook my head, knowing that his words were born of nothing but the unconditional love he felt for the two of us. He had always been my protector even when I didn't want him to be, but it had only been amplified when Aurora came around. She was a father figure to her, and he acted like one. He protected her the way he did when we were children, even from things that weren't even threats. When it began to rain, he would pull off his jacket and hold it over her head until they returned to the cottage. He kept us safe, and with my father and him close, I understood that Loki would only get to Aurora and I should he kill them, and he would have to kill me to get to her. Still, I saw how powerful he had become in New York, and the madness only opened up new abilities for him. He was stronger, faster, and more fearless. Should he arrive at our home, I couldn't risk the lives of my father and brother, "I don't want him to be killed. He's still...I still..." my voice trailed off as I shook my head in disbelief that I could still harbor such deep feelings for the man who hurt so many people, for the man who tore apart the fabric of what we built our love upon._

_Sensing exactly what I was feeling, my father spoke, "the most broken hearts are those that have experienced the most love. You hurt so deeply because you have been loved so intensely, little wolf. We will figure out what the next steps must be, and we will do it together. No matter what, though, you and Aurora will be safe," he murmured, the creak of the door pulling our attention away from each other and causing me to collect myself quickly._

_Aurora bounced out of the room in her nightgown, her black hair sweeping over her shoulders. I knew that the storm was distressing for her. She was afraid, but she wouldn't tell me that she was anxious for me to finish my conversation so that I would retire to the room to keep her company. She wouldn't voice those fears, but I knew by the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, that she was growing restless. I smiled at her, standing up from the safety of my father's arms before walking over to her. I cast a glance back at them and nodded, silently wishing them goodnight. Reaching down between us, I held my hand out for Aurora's, and when she grasped it, we walked into the room together. Like clockwork, she crawled into bed before me and sat upright, waiting for me to sink myself down and become comfortable. Only then did she curl up with me, resting her head right beneath my chin._

_I smiled up at the ceiling, feeling her try to pull herself closer to me. If I had known the night before I left would be our final night of security-our final night of _**_happiness_**_-I would've made the most of it. I would've held her like our worlds _**_weren't_**_ about to fall to pieces. I would've tickled and listened to that laugh until she was too fatigued to prance around the woods anymore, begging to return home to sleep. I would've cradled her closer to me than I ever had before, but we never know when the last of something was. We could never know which one was our final heartbreak, or which one was our final smile. We never knew which moment would be the last with joy and love. In that moment, I realized that the safest place for her was as far away from me as possible. The mere thought made my heart shatter, but it was true._

_I choked back the tears, my grip on her tightening, "the morning you were born followed the hardest night of my life. It was the night this world lost your father," I murmured, feeling her eyes on my face as I glanced out the window, hearing the thunder and rain, "the sky opened up, and it rained all night. Thunder and lightning rolled in across the horizon, and I knew that it was because the universe felt his absence just as deeply as I did. She cried with me, but I didn't have time to mourn him as much as I should've because you decided that you needed to mend my broken heart. You decided that it was time for me to hold you because when your father...died...I felt my world slipping away, and I was lost. It turns out that I was lost because you were meant to find me. It was as if you knew what your presence would bring to me: a lifetime of joy, love, and beauty that I'd never known before," I reminisced, my voice becoming thick with tears._

_Clearing my throat, I continued, "and when our eyes met for the first time, the storm cleared, and the sun began to rise on the horizon, chasing away the clouds. There was nothing but clear skies and light from that moment on. We have both known the storm, but we're strong enough to weather whatever comes our way. I remember that day like it was yesterday. The light from the dawn filled the room, and it felt like it was rising just for you. I felt invincible the moment you looked at me, like I could take on the world, and I felt more love than I'd ever felt before. I never knew how deeply I could love until I met you, and within the blink of an eye, my world changed for the better. The girl I used to be, the one who had known nothing but heartache in the months prior to your birth, she disappeared into the background the moment I held you, and I returned to the girl I was when I shared my heart with another," I mused, as my heart ached with what would come tomorrow. She would no longer be my little girl, and my life would lack the laughter and joy-the _**_love_**_-she brought into it._

_My eyes connected with hers, and I saw my reflection in them, but I didn't feel like the warrior or the goddess or the queen that she saw me as. I felt like a failure. My decision was to fail her, and in doing so, I would keep her safe. I fought back my tears, forcing a smile on my face as she yawned. She didn't need to worry, and my tumultuous emotions would only lead to her becoming more and more anxious. This would be her final night of peace, and I would bear the burden of knowledge until I was forced to forfeit my love and happiness the following day, "you were and will always be...the greatest gift life could've ever given to me. You are my favorite, favorite thing," I whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss to her nose as her smile brightened the darkness in my heart, "get some sleep now, little wolf. I will still be here when you wake."_

_She nodded her head, another little yawn escaping her lips, "I love you, Mother, and I miss you already," she whispered as her eyes closed, ready to accept the sleep I knew she hadn't been getting with my absence. She slept far more soundly at my side than she did without me, and she couldn't sleep at all during the storms without me._

"_I love you more," I responded in typical fashion, listening to the way her breath steadied. She fell asleep within minutes of hearing my final profession of love to her, and I just watched her, drinking in every feature and committing it to memory. All I would have left of her would be memories. When I knew she was finally asleep, the tears began to cascade from my eyes and down my cheeks. I held back the sobs as I thought of how true our typical parting words rang in that moment, "I miss you already."_


	27. The Awakening

He stood behind me in all his godly glory. I didn't want to look at him. My arms were crossed over my chest as if I was an adolescent in a petty argument with her guardian, but this didn't feel petty; I was hurt and felt betrayed. Thor knew how important it was that I stay away from Aurora. I made a promise to not even return to Earth unless the situation was dire or her life was in danger. Otherwise, I made an oath not to return for fear that I would see her. It was like a knife straight though my heart the moment our eyes met the previous week when I woke up. I was kept in the room and in the bed by Thor as Tony and Bruce continued to monitor me, making sure that I was in peak condition before they allowed me to leave. For over a week, I was forced to live in the same building as her, and every morning, I'd wake up with a dread unlike any other, terrified that she would come into the room, that she would look at me for a moment too long, and she would figure out the secret I kept from the universe.

Her.

While I was grateful for the gift Thor had given me-another chance at life-I was furious that this was the place he decided to bring me. Instead of forcibly taking me back to Asgard where Frigga would look after me, I was brought to the last place on Earth I wanted to be. I would've rather walked straight onto a battlefield alone with no armor and no weapons. It was a better fate than being forced to look upon the face that brought me so much joy and so much sorrow. Seeing her was like looking at the sun, but it only reminded me of how dark it truly was without her. She was the sip of fresh water in the desert that made you forget about the dry, unforgiving air. She was the cool breeze on a sweltering day that made you forget about the moisture on your upper lip whilst working in the garden. I resented the fact that she was a passing dream that would eventually give way to the nightmare. A life without her was darkness, and I wanted my eyes to adjust. However, each time I looked at her, my pupils would constrict to adjust to the light, and I'd forget about the darkness until I was thrown back into it, scrambling to see once more. Seeing her was like a breath of fresh air into lungs that were slowly filling with blood.

I wanted to see her, to hold her, to speak words of unconditional love to her, to tell her stories of her family, to fall asleep with her body curled up next to me, but I _couldn't_. I couldn't want those things. It was dangerous for her to be a part of me, and as the butterflies twisted in my stomach and that familiar stir occured, I frowned. I was a monster, an abomination, a freak of nature. If what I had been told was true, if I truly was the person Death and Ezra claimed I was, I was walking on a fault line, and I would either work to bring about peace, or I would bring about death and destruction. She could be no part of that. She was pure and innocent and far too good for me. I had her love for a time, and in my moments of darkness, I thought of the way her hair smelled after she ran through the forest, and my heart would lighten. I thought of the way she would throw her arms around my waist, crashing into me as every ounce of love poured from her very soul into my own. I thought of how she would kiss my cheek almost every night before she fell asleep.

Thor huffed, our argument clearly only beginning. He was clearly upset that I was so adamant against being here, and I was irritated that he made the call for me to be brought here. My mere presence was liable to damage Aurora's psyche and cause her to be even more unhappy. At least when I was absent, she lived in a type of blissful ignorance, much like Tony did when he was younger. He didn't remember me, but when I returned-before I gave him his memories of me back-he would begin to piece together the familiarity we had with one another. I worried that if Aurora found out, if she was able to see through the veil I placed over her memories of me, I wouldn't be able to walk away again, and that would be dangerous for her, "this was the only way to keep you alive," he insisted, his voice conveying just how spent he was by my insistence that we never should have come here in the first place.

I glared back at him, "_she's_ here!" I hissed, unable to bring myself to say her name. It was a dull ache in my heart, a place I so desperately tried to tend to all this time we've been apart, but just when I thought I'd be able to breathe without her in my life, I was thrust back into a life with her, which reminded me that breathing without her would never be possible. I was caught between accepting love and putting that love at risk or refusing that love and living in the void of unhappiness for the rest of my existence. I wanted to be happy, and I wanted her to be happy, but I couldn't have both. I was destined to lose no matter what.

"You're her _mother_! You needed to live! I made the right call!" he growled, raising his voice without fear of anyone hearing us. He was growing angrier and angrier by the second, but he underestimated me. I was ready to fight. I was outraged that I was brought to the one place on Earth that I didn't want to be. I was weak when I was near her, and he brought me straight to her. He made a decision that could cost me more than just my life, it could put _her _life in jeopardy as well, "if I had been in a similar situation, would you have let me die?" he asked, trying to prove his point.

I shook my head, grimacing as I turned around to catch his burning blue eyes, "that's not-"

He cut me off, his voice even louder than before, "don't even tell me it's any different!" he boomed, catching me off guard. I winced at his words, surprised that he was taking such a dominant tone with me. He _never_ did that before. Thor and I didn't argue with each other often, and even when we did, it _never_ got this heated; however, when Aurora was involved, he voiced his opinions and didn't change them. He was intense when he spoke of her, and that was only amplified after I made my decision to give her to Tony. He fought me every step of the way, telling me that he would secure the dungeons even more than they already were, telling me that Loki would have no way of escaping, but he didn't understand my goal. My goal was never to leave Aurora on Earth forever. I wanted to send her away until I managed to help bring back the Loki I knew and loved, the man who could be a spectacular father. Then, she would be brought back home, and we would be happy together. Instead, my plan-my _life_-fell apart the longer she was away from me, and Thor spoke of her less and less. When he _did_ utter words about her, they were always ones of love and dedication, though.

"You know how I feel about you, Eva," he murmured, his voice suddenly becoming sweet and tender as he closed the space between us with a few long strides. His right hand passed over the emptiness between us, and he stroked my cheek with the tips of his fingers. I wanted so desperately to lean into his touch, to lean into _any_ touch. With Aurora so close, I yearned for Loki's gentle arms to cradle me against him as I told him all the words I failed to convey before. Instead, I remained still, turning my focus to the blade of grass that was still tied to my finger. It was a reminder that things were moving in the direction I always dreamed they would, but it was yet another reminder that I was perhaps the worst thing for him. Thor's voice disturbed my silent conflict, "you've _always_ known how deep my love runs for you-how I _still_ love you after everything. In another life, you would've been my princess, my betrothed, _my_ love, but I've loved you on my own for a thousand years. I've listened to your laughter like it was a song sent by the old Gods, and I have appreciated you as if you were a goddess even before I knew the truth."

I furrowed my eyebrows, fear overcoming me. He couldn't know the truth. How could he know the truth? Odin. Why would he tell Thor, though? Of all the people to entrust with information like that, he trusted the man who could never hide anything from me? Did the Allfather _want_ me to know? Did he want this to be information that broke me? Did he want me to give into the darkness that he feared within me? I didn't know how to respond to Thor's words, but he didn't even look fazed by his own words, "my father finally told me of you, and by the way you speak, it's clear that you know, too...the daughter of Death," he continued, his voice trailing off, rendering me speechless. I didn't know how to respond. I had two options: lie to him or stay silent, hence confirming his words. I chose the latter. He nodded his head, "I worshipped the ground you walked upon before I even knew what you were, and you expected me to sit there and accept that you were dead? I've lost you before, and I wasn't about to lose you again," he choked out, tears forming in his eyes as he recalled the day Aurora was brought into the world, the day I willingly gave my life for hers.

With no desire to speak of my lineage, especially not so openly when no one else was aware, I skirted over his revelation that he was no longer blind to who I was..._what_ I was. Instead, I listened to the way his heart broke just a little more each second our eyes remained connected. Within him, there was a desire to stay on Midgard. I shook my head, sensing the conflict within him, too. He knew that Earth wasn't the place we belonged. We were meant to help the Asgardians, not live amongst them, for our presence would only bring about more conflict for them. We couldn't risk our wars straying away from Asgard and relocating to Midgard, "we can't stay. You know that, right?" I asked, knowing that he was becoming more and more tied to the idea of staying. When it was just Loki and I, before the world knew of our existence, we could've made a life on Midgard and flown under the radar. Even after New York, we could find our own little corner of the world to hide. Thor, however, was the prince of Asgard, the heir to the throne. He was well known amongst the Midgardians, too. He couldn't stay without risking the lives of the humans he wished to protect.

He frowned, stepping away from me, disconnecting his hand from my cheek. His arms crossed over his chest, and I could still feel the heavy conflict. He was looking for any and every reason to stay, and I could tell-even though he wouldn't tell me his true reasoning-that it was mainly because of Aurora. She played a role in him wanting to remain on Midgard, and I knew that because it was the same desire I struggled with, "it would do you good to continue resting. You know that the moment you return to Asgard, you'll pick right back up where you left off," he noted, the argument being a good one. It was true that I wouldn't take the time to rest when I returned to Midgard, but there were also many reasons for that. I had too much to accomplish, and I also had Harley and Kaia to care for in the meantime. There was a deadline on how soon the situation with Cul needed to be resolved. He shook his head, "I can't risk that, not so soon after I got you back."

I crossed my arms over my chest, turning back around to stare out the window, "it's my decision. We don't belong here," I hissed, burying my emotions as my own reflection stared back at me, her green eyes filled with unforgiving judgement.

"Neither does she!" he boomed, his voice becoming even deeper. I loathed the fact that he was questioning my decision when it was the only right one for me to make. I hurt myself enough over the fact that I separated myself from my daughter, I didn't need him to do the same. He continued as I stared at his reflection in the mirror, "she belongs with you. She belongs with her family. She's lost everything. She's lost _herself_. I would expect this from anyone else, but you _know_ what it's like to be abandoned," he hissed, almost as if he was _trying_ to dig a knife into my back.

As soon as he said those words, I saw the reflection of my eyes in the glass that overlooked the darkening city. The green was tainted by the color of a bleeding rose. A deep, velvety red took over the irises of my eyes, pushing aside all the green until it was the only color left. With every second of silence that passed, I felt my blood begin to boil, and the color in my eyes became more and more rich until it was almost glowing. I whipped around to face him, not even trying to fight back the anger that his words brought on. Instead, I fell into it, basking in the heat that rose up in my chest. His eyes widened as I narrowed mine at him in fury, "I never abandoned my daughter. Rethink your words, and speak again!" I demanded-a hefty command given to the prince by a commoner. But...I _wasn't_ a commoner. I had a claim to a throne I didn't want, but the power I felt with that knowledge made it even harder to bite my tongue, so I didn't.

"You left her!" he argued back, his blue irises sparking to life like the lightning that followed him wherever he went. Lightning lived in those veins, and when he was angry, there was a hint of it in his eyes.

"I did what was best for her!" I yelled, not caring who heard me. Even if Aurora heard me, she wouldn't know I was talking about her. At that point, I didn't care about the dangers of speaking too loudly or giving way to the rage within me. It was festering, and Thor was pulling it out of me little by little. I closed the space between us, grabbing the collar of his white t-shirt and pulling us closer together. I watched as my veins glowed with the same red that lingered in my irises, but I paid no mind to it. The anger was tearing away my cautious nature, giving way to someone far more feral and fearless. My voice lowered, "do you have _any_ idea how hard that was for me?" I hissed, before witnessing the fear in Thor's eyes. I had never seen it so prominent before, and he was _never_ afraid of _me_. I let go of his shirt, the red disappearing from my hands. All it took was that small look of terror, and I realized that I was turning into the monster I couldn't bear to live with. She was meant to come around when faced Thanos someday, or when I faced Cul. She was destruction incarnate, but that wasn't who I chose to be. I _refused_ to be the monster Odin believed I would become.

When Thor took a deep breath, I surmised that the green hue in my irises must've returned, fighting back the red. It was life and mercy fighting away death and destruction. It pained me to even look at him after what transpired, but our eyes connected as the hot tears filled mine. My voice was low and soft as to maintain control over my emotions and to not lose that control again, "do you have any idea how many nights I sat at the end of that bridge, asking Heimdall to tell me about her? It tore me apart each time, and all I wanted was to bring her home, so I stopped asking about the details. Instead, I just inquired about her health and safety. Do you know how many times I curled up in bed with my pillows and tried to pretend it was her? Do you know why I've fought so hard on behalf of your brother? Did you ever even stop to ask me _why_ I did it in the first place?" I asked, trying to urge him to think about how ignorant he was to the situation. He _didn't_ know all he thought he did.

He shook his head, "no, but I know it's because you were afraid that Loki would escape and hurt you," he answered, which was only part of the reasoning.

"Do you know what would've hurt me more than anything else?" I asked before falling into a tense silence as he looked for an answer. Sensing that he wouldn't come up with the right one, I answered my own question for him, "losing my child. I couldn't be certain that he wasn't crazed enough to do that if he escaped. I couldn't risk her life on the _chance _that he wouldn't hurt her."

"I would've protected you," he insisted.

"I didn't want anyone to get hurt, especially not him!" I snapped, feeling that familiar heat rising up again. It was as if he was _trying_ to misunderstand me. The anger and frustration quickly bled into sorrow, and tears began stinging my eyes, "I didn't want to give anyone a reason to hurt Loki, and I couldn't risk her life, either. I thought that if I sent her away, I could focus all my time on reaching out to Loki and helping him return to the man he used to be. Then, once he fled the darkness and returned to the light, I could bring her home. However, there was your father, too. With Loki's newest crimes, her life would have been in even more danger if he discovered her existence, and I would've been forced to commit treason because if he tried to take her from me, there would've been a slaughter. It was the only choice I had," I explained, my voice cracking as my emotions threatened to betray me like they had so often in the past weeks that we had been on Midgard. My emotions were heightened again, "she doesn't belong anywhere near me, and with Ezra's presence in Asgard, I don't _want_ her anywhere near me. I want her to be safe."

"_We_ could keep her safe," he yelled in exasperation.

I shook my head, knowing that nothing would sway me into bringing her back to Asgard under the current circumstances, "that's not good enough for me, though," I murmured as the door to the room cracked open. Thor took no notice of it, but I watched as Tony entered the room, eyes filled with concern. It was obvious that he heard our argument and was coming to check on us. Thor and I didn't fight like this..._ever_, so it was clear in the worry written all over Tony's face that he was concerned for each of us. In that moment, he looked like a child watching his parents argue, but he had seen far worse.

Thor's anger boiled up even more, "well, it's better than casting her away and leaving her here. You're her _mother_, and-"

I cut him off in frustration, "and you're not her father!" I bellowed, the building trembling under the pressure of my voice.

He took a moment to steady himself, clearing the pain from his eyes, and I saw the words flit across the blue surface of the ocean before he even said them. Thor _thought _about them before he spoke them, which made their impact that much more painful. He narrowed those anger-filled, crystal blue eyes at me, "well, even if I _was_, it wouldn't worry me anyway because I wouldn't know of her," he remarked, causing Tony to flinch on the other side of the room.

I remained composed, staring him down as the realization of his own words hit him. It was the lowest blow he could deal, and he dealt it. Part of me wished for more of his hurtful words, for I deserved them more than anyone else. Part of me wanted him to hurt me the way I know my lack of romantic affection hurt him. No one else deserved pain and suffering the way I did...not even Thanos himself. I failed the love of my life. If I fought harder, Loki wouldn't have fallen from the Bifrost in the first place. If I fought harder, he would've seen the birth of our daughter, and we could've lived a happy life together. instead, everything spiraled out of control, and-like dominoes-each painful, sorrow-filled event followed the last. They were all connected to that one instance when I let Loki walk away from me in the garden before telling him that I was with child. Every moment of pain and suffering my love and our daughter experiences...it was all on me, so I silently wished for that pain to be thrust upon me. I yearned for mercy, but I knew what I deserved.

As Thor's eyes filled with regret, I turned around to face the window once more, "leave," I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest as if I could _physically_ fight back the tears that were so close to rising up and spilling down my cheeks.

"Eva, I'm so-"

I cut him off, "I don't want to talk to you right now, and I'm _done _listening," I growled, glaring at his reflection, "and if you _ever _insinuate that I don't love my daughter again, you'll be hard-pressed to make it through your next breath before you feel my wrath," I threatened him, knowing that I couldn't truly live up to that threat. I still loved Thor, but sometimes, that was where the most excruciating, intimate pain came from-from the ones we loved most. They were the ones we let close enough, the ones we trusted with daggers deep enough to tear through our hearts, but we trusted that they wouldn't use them against us. Thor just did, "you'll never understand what it's like to willingly give up something you love _so deeply_ for their own benefit."

"I do..." he sighed, his voice thick with tears, "...because I did that with you."

Then, there was an empty silence that filled the room. Thor's footsteps over to the door cut through the deafening nothingness, sounding louder than usual. I continued to stare out the window, though, the clouds merging together to cover the sky in a thick blanket of darkness. The moment I heard the door close behind one of my closest friends, I allowed the tears to cascade down my cheeks. I never meant to hurt him, but my inability to choose him over Loki caused him more pain than anything else. The countless sacrifices he made for me never went unnoticed. My hand flew up to cover my mouth as I physically held in a sob. This wasn't how it was meant to be. It felt like I was losing him, and it was my fault.

As soon as I began crying, I felt Tony's presence behind me. My eyes locked with those in his reflection on the glass. I spun around, throwing my arms around his neck. I didn't wish to speak ill of Thor, but I knew that even if I did, Tony would listen in silence until I cried myself to sleep. I didn't wish to weep the way I was, but I knew that Tony would hold me through it. His arms wrapped around my waist, and he held me against his chest. I breathed him in, burying my face in his neck as I let my emotions run wild. I knew that Thor was cold because he loved Aurora so deeply. She was the last piece of his brother he had left, and he dumped every ounce of love he had into her. She was a shining star on his darkest night, and I knew that his intentions were good. I knew that all he wanted was to see a happy ending for the people he loved.

Before he could speak a single word, the fluttering in my abdomen returned, but that time around, it was a thousand times stronger than the last. My body jolted, and I tore myself away from Tony's arms, feeling the sickness rise up within me. It was beginning. It was the awakening. I scrambled into the washroom, taking the time to hurriedly shut the door behind me. My knees connected with the solid marble floor right before I emptied the contents of my stomach into the bowl. I groaned, remembering how much I _didn't_ miss this part of it. Humans and Asgardians were similar in many aspects, but I always wished that this wasn't one of them. Still, it was a reminder of what I was fighting for. It was an awakening, and it would be our new beginning.

Between the muffled heaves of my body trying to empty itself of all that I had eaten in the past few hours since I last got sick, I heard the door open, but I didn't dare pull my head from the toilet bowl for fear that my stomach would betray me yet again. Instead, I left my head buried in the bowl, knowing exactly who entered the bathroom after me. Though I didn't desire Tony's company when I was in such a state, the supportive, loving energy that radiated from him made me feel much less alone in what was happening. After another wave of sickness, I pulled my head from the bowl to gasp for air, and Tony was ready with a towel. In an attempt to be close to me-even when the best place to be would've been as far away as possible-I watched as he lowered himself onto the floor beside me. I took the grey towel from him with a groan, "I'm sorry," I apologized, reaching up to flush away the proof of my sickness.

He smirked, clearly slightly amused by the situation. It was in typical Tony fashion to make light of a serious situation. Even as a young boy, he would do the same thing. He once jumped off a swing as a child, and got a nasty cut on his upper arm. Instead of crying, he joked that he'd be able to tell people that he'd gone off to war, and this was one of many battle scars. He specifically asked for me to leave him with it when I insisted I heal him. By that point, though, he knew that it wasn't so much a healing process as it was a transferral process, and I was aware of why he wanted to keep it. Instead of telling me that he didn't want me to hurt myself by helping him, he covered up his pain with a joke and moved on. Our eyes connected, and his smile forced one of my own, "you know, it's actually kind of refreshing to know that even gods and goddesses do this kind of thing, and it's not just me after a night of bad decisions."

"Well, I'm not a goddess, and we're not as different from humans as you think," I remarked, my stomach continuing to churn. From the look in his eyes, I knew that he was piecing it together, "you don't have to sit here."

"You're right, I don't," he nodded, "but _you _did," he added, his eyes becoming wet with tears. We tried to move on quickly from what happened with Killian and the Extremis serum. He had been working diligently to find a cure for the serum, so there wasn't much time to share many words about what transpired or what happened to the two of us. I didn't want to force the conversation for fear that it would stir up some unpleasant emotions, so all he did after I woke up was sit with me in silence for the entire day. He held my hand and gazed at me like I was the only living thing in the universe. In that moment on the floor of the washroom, though, I saw some of those emotions rising up to greet him, "you were there for me during every dirty, disgusting, painful, and horrifying moment, and you were there for every grand, beautiful, exciting, and joyful one, too. You did it all because you loved me, and the fact that you..._died_ for me tells me that the love never left even for a moment. I love you, too, Eva, and that's why I'm gonna sit here."

Tears filled my eyes as he spoke. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if my younger self would've believed me if I told her what her future had in store for her. If I had the ability to go back and tell her all that she would experience, all the love she would receive, would she believe me? Would she trust that all the pain would be worth it? Would she still make those painstaking decisions to get to where I was in that very moment? Would she have made different choices that lead her down a less painful path? All I knew was that in that very moment on the floor, I was lucky. The people that I loved were safe for the time being, and I was in the presence of one of the most extraordinary people I'd ever met. As fate would have it, though, another wave of sickness kept me from speaking similar words of love into Tony's soul as he did mine. I buried my head in the bowl once more and heaved, groaning once the wave passed over me. Pulling my head from the toilet bowl once more, I flushed the contents and moved my hair from my face. Luckily, it remained untouched. As I tried to collect myself, the question Tony asked made me freeze, "how long have you known?"

He knew.

The gentle thrumming of my heart stopped on a dime, and my breath caught in my throat. My eyes locked with his, and I searched them, seeing that there was no ounce of lightheartedness in him. He wasn't joking with me or even offering up the question as a way to lighten the mood. He was asking me the question in all seriousness. It shouldn't have surprised me as much as it did, what with Tony and I being as close as we were. We had a spiritual connection to one another, and his ability to read me like an open book was nothing new. Because I wasn't ready to start speaking of it aloud just yet, my mouth fell open as I searched for any other explanation aside from the truth itself. While Life spoke to me, insisting that I was ready, I was afraid of the end of this road. I had just taken in Harley and Kaia, and Loki had finally asked me to be his. So much was happening, and the end of the road was tainted by what happened with Aurora. Ezra and Cul still posed a massive threat to my home and myself. In turn, they posed a massive threat to my love and my children, both alive and unborn.

"You're pregnant, aren't you?" he asked, nonchalantly. He knew the truth as well as I did, but he was just recently able to piece it together. I had been piecing it together since Life spoke to me, whispering words of loving encouragement right to my soul. The very essence of the universe was on my side, but I was still uncertain. Before I could open my mouth to speak again, a smirk played on Tony's lips as his eyes scanned my body. There hadn't been any physical changes yet, but they would start happening soon just like they did before. This time, I was more sensitive to the change within me, though, so I was aware of what was happening _as_ it was happening. Looking for the right words to say in order to deter Tony from the truth that he already knew, he cocked his head to the side, snickering, "don't try to lie to me, sweetheart, that's _my_ forte, not yours. Besides, I can see right through you. Just talk to me."

I nodded my head in response to his first question. It was true. He knew of the awakening that I was ill prepared for, "I felt the change the morning I returned from Asgard. That night, Loki and I-"

He cut me off, holding up a hand as if it could somehow stop my words, "whoa, I already know where babies come from, so you don't have to overshare," he teased me, a playful grin forming on his lips. It caused the laughter that bubbled up in my chest and spilled from my lips. I leaned forward and gave him a gentle, playful push as his eyes filled with that sparkle that I missed each time it died away. When he was a child, that little twinkle in his eyes was there almost constantly, but the more of life he witnessed, the more cruelty he saw, the more that spark died away. When he spoke of Aurora, when he looked at me, when I told him about Loki, those little moments brought about that twinkle once more, and it was as if my life fell back into place. He cleared his throat, his eyes still bursting with life at the excitement of another little life that he could shower with love and affection. In the short period of time that he had Aurora, he treated her like the little queen of his existence, and I wondered how beautiful of a father he would be. His voice interrupted my inner thoughts, "besides, to feel that you're pregnant the morning after...that's impossible."

"It should be, but I don't know how else to explain it," I remarked, finally able to sit up as my stomach stopped churning. I was nervous to eat anything else, but I was hungry without a single clue of what I wanted. I leaned back against the counter, resting my hand on my abdomen, "it's like this little spark just _ignited _that morning, almost like my life essence split in two, and it joined together with Loki's to create a new one. I don't know how to put it into words, but I knew almost immediately what had happened," I explained, the warmth of that moment still spreading through my veins. This familiar journey made it that much harder to stay away from Aurora, but it made me that much more passionate about ending the conflict with Cul and Ezra. I would have my daughter back before I welcomed her sibling into the world.

Tony slid himself across the floor until he sat right in front of me. He grasped my hands in his own, giving them a gentle squeeze, "stay in New York," he insisted, his eyes filling with a hope that I would be forced to break. I wasn't meant to stay, not without Loki. I wasn't meant to be_ anywhere_ without him. Sensing the conflict in my eyes, he continued with even more resolve. He could sooner move a mountain with his bear hands before he could sway me in this. I couldn't stay, but I allowed him to continue, "let me look after you while you go through this process. Thor told me what happened last time. You should be monitored. Give Bruce and I just a little more time to reverse the effects of the extremis..._please_," he begged, tears filling his eyes as he spoke. The last time we were split up from each other, I died, and I knew how difficult that was for him to come to terms with. He didn't want to be away from me again.

"I have matters to tend to in Asgard," I replied, making my voice as soft and delicate as I possibly could. I knew that my words would break his heart and spirits, so I was gentle with how I spoke them. In my mind, I was looking for any possible way to go about the coming months without hurting anyone. The only way this could work out for everyone involved would be if Ezra and Cul were dealt with, taking them out of the picture completely. Then, there wouldn't be an outside force threatening my family or myself. After that, Loki and I could escape to Midgard with Harley and Kaia to reunite with our daughter, and we could live peacefully amongst the Midgardians as we continued to build our family. While the odds wouldn't be in my favor for that outcome, I wanted that fairytale happy ending, and I would make it happen. Even if it didn't happen for me, I would see to it that it happened for my children and my love. I continued speaking, "Loki missed the birth of our first child. He will not miss the birth of our second one. I don't care what steps I need to take to get him out of those dungeons, he is my beloved, and he belongs with me. I will tear the palace apart if it means he leaves with me," I added, the anger boiling up within me. I watched as the veins in my hands began to glow that vibrant red, and the way Tony's eyes widened let me know that my eyes had also taken on that familiar color. I smirked, feeling the power surging through me, "besides...that castle belonged to my father long before it belonged to Odin."

* * *

***Aurora's POV***

She didn't like me.

It was clear in the way she had me shooed away every time I even ventured near her room. She wouldn't make eye contact with me or speak to me. If Clint was so adamant that there wasn't a hateful bone in her body, I would have presumed that she hated me; however, the first time I said that, Clint and Natasha _both_ jumped to her defense, telling me that it wasn't in her nature to harbor hatred for anyone. I trusted that they knew her better than I did, but I couldn't ignore the fact that she didn't seem to be as partial to me as everyone else. She was nothing like the stories Tony and Steve told me about. They talked about her all the time, but they never mentioned how closed off and isolated she was. She had been at the tower for nearly three weeks, and she had only spoken a single word to me. She was warm and inviting to everyone else from what I could tell, but it was a different story when I was involved.

Still, I wanted to learn about her. I wanted to know who she was like the others did. There was a reason why she was regarded as the Mother of the Earth or the Mother of Mankind. There was a reason why she was placed on a pedestal by the people of Earth, and I wanted to know what that reason was. I wanted to know about her, every little detail. The moment I first saw her the day we arrived, it was like the world made sense. My world began to burst with color. She was someone I was meant to find, almost as if every question in the universe remained unanswered until the moment we met. Every other moment in my life paled in comparison to that one. She was the very breath in my lungs, the sun that warmed my skin, the answer to every question, the lyrics to every song, the eloquent words on every blank page, the very beat of my-once empty-heart, the life that flowed around me. She was all of it.

I was desperate to get close to her, to hear her voice in every moment of silence, to feel the way the warmth would overcome me the moment she touched me. It felt as if I had been running for as long as I could remember, and she was my finish line. While she didn't seem too interested in getting to know me, it didn't stop me from forcing my presence in her life when I could. It took a lot of sneaking, but I was able to work my way past Clint, Natasha, and Steve-the ones who would usually steer me away from Eva's room-and I'd maneuver my way into the brightened room just long enough to bombard her with questions that went unanswered. Thor and Bruce never tried stopping me, and Tony was too preoccupied with his work to pay much attention to what I was doing. He was attentive, but I could sense that he was drowning. He was overworking himself, and that would soon become a problem, so I made a not to intervene.

With Tony having recently left Eva's room, though, after her confrontation with Thor, it seemed like the best opportunity to slip in. I felt bad for her after I heard the two Asgardians fighting. I was glad it ended peacefully, though. The last time Asgardians fought amongst themselves on Earth, they laid waste to a huge portion of the city, but I understood that it was also a war that Loki decided to wage against humanity. No one spoke of him much, but when they did, they tried to dance around what happened. I despised him. I couldn't remember it happening-so much of my life was lost to me-but what I learned was horrific. He nearly killed all the people I held so near and dear to my heart, people I couldn't imagine a life without. He would've murdered them, and that was unforgivable to me. I hoped that whatever Asgardian law they had would be cruel to him after what transpired in New York, but I couldn't say anything of that nature without the room going completely silent and everyone getting uncomfortable, so I kept it to myself.

Making sure that Natasha, Clint, and Steve were nowhere in close vicinity to Eva's room, I snuck up to the door and pushed it open, quietly stepping inside. My eyes connected with her immediately. She was standing before the large glass wall, staring out at the darkened sky as the rain continued to pour down. I'd never seen anything like it. It had been cloudy and raining almost constantly after she arrived. Tony told me stories about her, how nature seemed to change around her depending on her mood or physical state. He was poetic when he spoke her name, and I watched as the very heart within him danced to life when he gazed at her. She was beautiful, even in her sorrow, which she seemed to live in. Her emerald green eyes, which mirrored the color of mine, searched the outside world for the answers to questions I did not know. The very soul within me ached when I realized that I was unable to help her, that even should I offer my help to the goddess at the window, she would not speak a word to me.

She didn't even turn to acknowledge my presence in the room, and I watched as her eyes remained fixed on the thick clouds in the sky. The only piece of acknowledgement I received was the light shift of weight from one foot to the other that she did when her ears perked up. She was aware of my presence, and that was the best I could get from her. I made myself comfortable in the room that smelled like her. The scent was comfortable...almost _familiar_. She smelled of spring, of freshness. Tony once called her the embodiment of nature and life. She was everything new and everything old. Her soul was that of the world we tread upon and the one that gave life to the universe. The room itself was like walking into a forest, but there was a hint of sweetness, too. It was such a familiar smell, one that was locked in the back of my mind. The flash of a memory raced past me, almost too fast for me to see it. I was running through a meadow with a tree with red and white flowers as the leaves positioned at the center of the clearing. There was a woman too far away to recognize, and the moment I tried to decipher who it was, the memory slipped away from me, almost as if I awoke from a dream and into this new one wherein she existed and stood so close to me.

The mere sight of her filled me with this sense of longing, like she was home for me. I wondered if everyone who met her had the same unexplainable connection. Everyone else in the tower seemed partial to her, even taking into consideration her fight with Thor. He still seemed pained by it, almost like arguing with her brought him physical discomfort. He was lucky that he gave up when he did, though, because I was one booming voice away from walking into the room and fighting on her behalf. Clearly, there wouldn't have been much I could've done as a mere human stepping into the metaphorical ring with two other Asgardians, but his loathful tone stung everyone who was close enough to hear it, which was...everyone. I stayed just close enough to the room to hear her melodic voice bite back at him but far enough away that I couldn't discern what either of them were saying. If Clint had his way, I would've been removed from the building completely, but Steve casually glanced the other way when I snuck closer and closer to her room. That was all I wanted: to be closer.

I closed the space between us, resigning myself to sit on the chair that I made my home while she was still asleep. Countless hours were spent in that chair, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest or the way the light hit her sun-kissed skin. For a week, I found ways to sneak into her room just to be in her presence. It was similar to the warmth of the sun on my skin. I felt rejuvenated. Being close to her was like being..._home_. I knew so little about her other than what was said about her, but it was like my soul and her soul were forged into one from the very beginning of the universe. I knew that wherever she was...that was where I was meant to be. Pulling my knees up to my chest, resting my feet on the chair, I hugged my legs close, thinking of anything to say this time that would get her to open up. Tony made a remark once that she was old-fashioned, that her and I had that in common. He prided himself on building up a massive library, and he seemed to collect works that were of a more sophisticated taste. He kept a lot of the classics, but he had a soft spot for Shakespeare and Charlotte Brontë. I read constantly, spending most of my time among the books he collected. Hoping that it would be the thing that connected us, I thought of one of my favorite Shakespearean lines, one from _Romeo and Juliet_, a play that-upon its completion-left me devastated for weeks. Interrupting the silence, I took a deep breath, hoping that this would be the moment she finally let me in, "amen, amen. But come what sorrow can-"

She cut me off, a voice more beautiful than those of a choir of angels speaking directly to me, "it cannot countervail the exchange of joy that one short minue gives me in her sight. Do thou but close our hands with holy words, then love-devouring death do what he dare; it is enough I may but call her mine," she finished the quote with ease. She was clearly well-versed when it came to Shakespeare, which caught me off guard, but it also gave me hope that this would be the tie that bound us together.

She still didn't turn to face me, but I couldn't help the pride that swelled in my chest. I broke through to her, "I didn't think Asgardians knew Shakespeare," I remarked, praying that this would be the start to a long, never-ending conversation. For a moment, I dreamed of staying up into the early hours of the morning, talking to her about our favorite books, asking her questions about her home, hearing her answers on that velvety smooth voice, cascading from her lips with the grace of a trained dancer. I dreamed of having her look me in the eyes like she did on the day she first woke up. I dreamed of having her look at me with the same unconditional love she had for the others.

After a moment of prolonged silence, her voice cut through it like a knife through butter, seemingly filling my soul with its majestic beauty, "my love used to quote Shakespeare to me often. He and I would sit beneath the ever-watchful stars above Asgard, and he would whisper my favorite sonnets to me. Shakespeare wrote the words, but my love spoke them directly into my heart," she mused, a smile overcoming her lips as I watched her reflection intently. Every word, every pause to take a breath, every dip in her voice as she spoke left me entranced by her, but her smile was otherworldly.

I shrugged, hoping that she would say more but understanding that she may have needed a push, "he had good taste. Shakespeare is my favorite," I explained, opening up to her as I had been doing almost constantly since she arrived. Most of the time, I spoke and she stood there quietly, not saying a single word back to me. The moment I opened up to her again, though, her smile fell, and our eyes locked in the reflection for a moment that passed us by so quickly. She hurriedly looked away, and silence befell us again. It couldn't be over, not when it just started, "can you tell me about him?" I asked, yearning to get just a little bit more from her. Steve told me once that there were instances where it was better to never get the taste for something at all because then you'd never miss its sweetness. _This_ was one of those circumstances, and I wondered if he was talking about her all along. He seemed to be partial to her in a way that he wasn't with anyone else. He was just as enthralled by her as everyone else seemed to be, but he looked at her like she was some long lost love.

When the silence quickly became uncomfortable between us, I desperately tried to fix the damage that my previous question had caused, "nevermind, sorry. It's not my business," I cleared my throat, glancing around the room as if the blank walls would tell me what to say next, "so, Tony's still working on the serum to counteract the extremis, and he said it should only take a few more days, so...if you _do _feel the need to just talk or...whatever, just let me know. I'm usually right in the living room, or I'm down in Tony's workshop with him. We'd also love to have you for our Friday movie night. Tomorrow, it's my choice, but if you want to join us, I'll let you have my pick. It's the last one before Clint leaves, and I told him he could have my pick, but he doesn't want it," I explained, running a hand through my hair that I hadn't bothered to braid back. It was untameable that morning, so I left it alone, becoming frustrated with it quickly, "we're still working on catching Steve up on what he's missed, so I'm a bit clueless. It's a lot of fun, though. We turn the living room into a fort, and we all sit in our pajamas with some popcorn and cookies that Bruce bakes. They usually come out a little strange, but we grin and bear it because he's proud of them; though, they've gotten better since Natasha started helping. It's an open invitation. We start at 8:30 because Tony wants me in bed no later than 11, but you don't have a bedtime, so any time should work for you."

Nothing.

She didn't say a single word to me. It was as if my words fell on deaf ears. While it frustrated me, it hurt me more than anything. I felt like a pest, like just a waste of space. What was so wrong with me? What had I done wrong? I didn't want her to form a bond with me out of pity-something I always suspected of the people at the tower-but I just wanted her to give me a chance to prove myself. The moment the door opened and Natasha appeared in the room, though, was the moment I understood just how unwanted I was by Eva. She turned to the redheaded beauty and smiled, greeting her with a friendly attitude, causing my heavy heart to sink straight into the chair beneath me. My body took over, sensing that my heart no longer knew what was best for it, and in a desperate attempt to save my heart from itself, I ran out of the room with tears in my eyes and a dull ache coursing throughout my entire body. It felt like I was losing something I never had in the first place. Eva wasn't mine. She was nothing to me, so why did I feel so devastated when she placed herself just out of my reach?

I avoided the arms of Steve and Clint who both tried to catch me as I ran past them. I knew the two men well enough to know that they would plant themselves right outside my door until I caved and let them in or at least talked to them. They worried about me; aside from saving the world, it was what they were best known for. Once I reached my room, I pushed the door open before slamming it behind me, locking it just as quickly. Living with Tony, I knew there was no use locking the doors because Jarvis always kept an eye on me and kept Tony updated on my well-being. When I would get frustrated, I knew that it was easier to just talk to him about what was on my mind. Living with Steve was similar. I knew that a lock wouldn't keep him from holding me through whatever hell I was experiencing. There was no covering up the fact that the man would've busted through the lock in order to get to me, but he gave me my space when I was desiring it. In this situation, I wasn't so sure how the space would work out. I wanted space, but I didn't need it. I needed to feel close, but I needed that closeness with Eva. Of all people, my soul chose the one just out of reach.

Leaning my back against the wall beside the door, I slid down it just as quickly as the tears slid down my cheeks. I wiped them away with one hand as my free arm wrapped around my knees, keeping them hugged against my chest. No matter how quickly I wiped the tears away, they were relentless. I bit my bottom lip, holding back a sob that threatened to give away just how devastated I was. Beyond the door, though, I could feel the comforting presence of Steve and Clint. Natasha wouldn't have been far behind them, and if Bruce and Tony knew what was going on, no one could've stopped them from busting down the door as they attempted to comfort me, "talk to me, sweetheart. What's going on?" Clint asked, his voice slightly muffled by the wall that separated us.

I ran my fingers through my hair, anger boiling up within me at the current situation. I wasn't angry at Eva, though. I was angry at myself. There was clearly something wrong with me. I gripped the roots of my hair, pulling just enough to allow me the physical pain that acted as a momentary release of the emotional burden I had been carrying around for as long as I could remember, "Eva hates me! She hates me, and I'm a pest!" I yelled, wishing that the constant yearning to be closer to her would just die away. I wished to be able to cut it out because if it were possible, I would've done so in a heartbeat, but it was impossible to cut out ones own soul.

"She doesn't hate you. There's not a single hateful bone in her body. It's just...hard for her to let people in," Clint tried to explain away her behavior. It was clear that she didn't want me. No one truly did. I was meant to be alone. My parents didn't want me. Eva didn't want me. I was sure that if I gave the rest of them a chance, they'd leave me soon enough. I was damaged goods. I had no name, no past, and I wished not to have a future in that moment as well. The thought was fleeting, but it frightened me nonetheless.

I bit my quivering bottom lip, sniffling as I fought back the tears, "she has no problem letting the rest of you in."

There was a momentary silence, and I heard the nearly silent shift of Steve's weight from one foot to the other. The two men would do with me exactly as they did with Eva. They would sit outside my door if they couldn't be in the room with me. I'd found Steve more than once sleeping against the wall right outside her bedroom door on the one night he couldn't sleep in the chair right beside her bed. That night, the chair was taken up by Eva's father, Aaldir, who I had met. He looked at me for a long time, almost like he had seen a ghost, his face going pale as his dark brown eyes widened. I could see the universe in them as he looked at me. Once he collected himself, he bowed his head to me before brushing past me to speak in private with Thor. Steve slept right outside Eva's door that night, and I brought two blankets: one for him and one for myself. I stayed on that floor in that very spot every single night, hoping-_wishing_ that she'd invite me in, hoping that she would open up the door and allow me into a heart I yearned to hold only a piece of. The silence was followed by Steve's calming voice, "you remind her of someone from her past, someone she loved more than anything else. When she sees you, she remembers all the pain that came with it. She's been hurt more than most. Life hasn't been kind to her, Aurora; you should be the first person to understand that."

There was another near silence, and I listened intently as the two men stepped away from my door. Their soft voices-low enough so I couldn't make out what they were saying-seeped into the room through the crack at the bottom of the door. Natasha's voice was amongst the two deeper ones, and I smiled at her dedication to me. They were all family to me, but Natasha understood me in a way that the others couldn't. It didn't take long for their voices to fall silent, and a few knocks sounded on my door, "can I come in?" Nat asked in her raspy voice that often sung Russian lullabies to me as I fell asleep. She would stroke my hair back and sing, but they weren't the songs that were in my heart. Instead, I was left trying to figure out the melodies on my own as her voice lulled me to sleep.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the lock on the door. I imagined it turning. Just as I imagined it, I listened to the metal lock unlatch itself, allowing Natasha access to my room. Over time, I began to discover things about myself, things that I didn't dare speak of to anyone else, things that I kept hidden away. No one else needed to know about these unimportant occurrences because it would only worry those who worried about me enough for a thousand lifetimes. As soon as the door unlocked, Nat pushed the door open just enough to slip inside before closing it behind her, "hi," she whispered, her voice like a single ray of light shining through the storm of my darkest thoughts. Without another word said, she leaned back against the wall and slid down to sit right next to me, draping her arm around my shoulders the moment she reached the floor.

I leaned into her warmth. The woman who was seen as an assassin was nothing of the sort in my eyes. She was powerful-a force to be reckoned with-but gentle when the situation called for that. I nestled into her, but I still felt like something was missing. Eva. She was that missing puzzle piece. I didn't know why the universe brought us together, but it did. She was what I was looking for. She was the person I needed to feel whole. No matter if I ever found my parents or not, she was the one I needed most. It was as unconscious a thought as breathing. We didn't think of it, we just did it. I didn't have to think about why I needed her to know that I did, in fact, need her. I buried my face into Nat's neck as the tears wet her warm skin, "I just want someone to choose me!"

She stroked my hair back, her fingers never once tugging at the wild waves, "we chose you," she reminded me, her voice thick with unshed tears. She buried her emotions until she was alone. I heard her cry in the room with Eva one day, but when I saw her, she was just as stoic as usual. Those feelings-the heavy ones-weren't ones she wanted to share.

"No, you guys were stuck with me," I argued, shaking my head at the notion that anyone, especially people like Tony and Steve could bring themselves to love someone like me. I was unlovable...unwanted.

"Is that what you think this is? That we're stuck with you?" she asked, as if my question somehow offended her. She wasn't easily offended, so I knew that the damage my words had done was serious. Still, I was certain that my words were no less than truthful, so I nodded in response. Looking up at her, I saw that tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but in doing so, I watched as they fell. I did that. I caused that. I was the water that found its way into a rock and cracked it open from the inside. I ruined things. I destroyed things. She cleared her throat, collecting herself enough to look back down at me, our eyes meeting with mutual love for one another. She forced a smile, "well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we didn't choose what happened when we all first met you. We didn't choose how deeply in love we fell with you. What we _did _choose, however, was to let you into our little world, and I think I speak for everyone when I say that we never once regretted that. It was the greatest decision of my life to let you into my world, to let you see me for what I am instead of the monster other people see me as. I'm not afraid to tell you that you're wrong about us being stuck with you. You're a gift."

I nodded my head, allowing the tears to overcome me again as I lost myself in her embrace, "why does it hurt so much, then? Why does it feel like this? Why can't I just accept that she doesn't care?"

"Because you love so deeply. Those who love the most are also the ones who suffer the most. She's guarded, but she wasn't always that way. I've heard stories of the girl she used to be before the universe pulled the rug out from under her," she explained, looking for the right words to help me understand the mysterious Asgardian better; however, it seemed as if she was dancing around a clearer description of events. She was choosing every word meticulously. There was something I wasn't being told, and I was going to find out what it was, "Eva is the only person I know who loved so deeply it cost her everything...even herself."


	28. The Nameless Ones

***Loki's POV***

The last time I saw her, I kissed her and whispered into her ear how excited I was for the next time we would see each other. I missed her before she even left. The anticipation of seeing her again, of our future conversations of running away together to get married, left me giddy with excitement that night. However, when I felt the sudden void filling my chest, Ezra's reaction did nothing but confirm what I already knew. She died. She died, and I wasn't there with her. For weeks, I'd been begging for death and destroying my cell until my furniture was taken from me in an attempt to protect me from myself. The moment I realized the empty feeling in my soul, I broke the chaise lounge chair in my room, and I hid one of the legs. I fashioned it into a knife that I planned to plunge into my heart that night when the guards weren't looking. All I wanted was to be with her, to take back every moment of heartbreak I put her through and hold her in my arms one more time. I wanted to breathe in the scent of the forest that was upon her hair and make her a crown of twigs, leaves, and flowers that she would wear with pride. I wanted to kiss her, drinking in the very soul that connected us.

Ezra, upon seeing what I was trying to do, warned the guards who confiscated my makeshift weapon along with every piece of furniture that could've possibly been turned into an object that could cause me harm. I didn't understand his reasoning for it. He hadn't said much after confessing that he and Eva were siblings, and it shocked me to know that she had come from such filth. She was the embodiment of purity and light, and he was the embodiment of tainted goods and darkness. Part of me doubted their relationship, but his conviction and worry seemed to be genuine when he spoke to Thor that day. He seemed truly terrified for her well-being. Ezra paced around his cell all day until the moment I felt the void, and I was certain that he felt it, too, for he fell to his knees, a dark mist spreading through his cell as his eyes turned bright red. Eva's had done that before, but I told myself that it was nothing more than a coincidence.

Sitting in the silence, I did nothing but stare up at the ceiling day in and day out. I couldn't sleep without seeing her face and entertaining the countless scenarios that could've taken place, so I didn't sleep. I didn't eat because I felt sick to my stomach whenever I tried. I didn't even want to breathe, but my body betrayed me, forcing me to continue living a life that was void without her. The only hope I had left was that we would meet each other in whatever came after this. There was a plan I had lined up for later that night, a plan to end this, to finally be embraced by the peace that eluded me for far too long. I'd be with her soon. I didn't dare to close my eyes for too long for fear that sleep would pull me into its cold abyss, and I'd be left dreaming of all the ways she could've died. No one was permitted to see me, so I would never know. Odin had been keeping a closer eye on the dungeons lately, but the reason was unclear to me. There were more guards, and there were no more visits from Frigga in the last few weeks.

Fearing that if I continued laying on the floor, I'd fall asleep, I pulled myself up, leaning my body against the wall in a seated position. Everything I did felt like an inconvenience. I couldn't even be bothered to clean the dried blood off my hands from where I tried to destroy anything and everything I could get my hands on to use in a desperate attempt to take my own life. I was lost without her light. My actions would've disappointed her had she seen me, but I hoped she would forgive me. Scattered across the room were the leather-bound books she had gifted to me, filled with her letters and poems to me. Early in the mornings, I would wake up alone in bed to see her sitting at the desk Aaldir had built for me, penning poetry to me, clad in nothing more than a sheet. She didn't enjoy sleep the way others did. Even though it offered a freedom from the worries of the world, she wished to drink in every single moment. On rare occasions, she would fall asleep before me to leave me in awe of her beauty. However, most of the time, she was still awake when I fell asleep, and she was awake before I woke up in the morning.

There were times when I would be unable to sleep, and I'd find my way out of the bed after gazing upon the ever beautiful visage of my muse. She offered me so much inspiration and brought about a sense of wonder into my life. Colors were more vibrant with her, the world smelled sweeter, the flowers bloomed more beautifully in her wake. There wasn't a single word in any language throughout the universe that could properly describe the way she made me feel, to properly describe the beauty of my life when she was close to me. As I cracked open the book, it was as if the world came alive once more. It was her love pouring out of the book as if the leather-bound work was her heart itself. My eyes skimmed over the words as shameless tears streamed down my cheeks.

_Loki,_

_I have a question I cannot wait until morning to ask, but the view of you sleeping under the light of the moon leaves me helplessly, infinitely more in love with you than I was even a second ago; therefore, I cannot bring myself to wake you, but I pray you understand this. I want to know if you would change the mind of fate if she decides someday that we should no longer be together. Would you fight destiny in order to love as freely as we do now? I do not know why this concerns me on this night, but my dreams have not been kind to me as of late. I do not doubt our loyalty to one another, but I am in need of reassurance in the rarest circumstances. I awoke this morning to watch your sleeping face, your eyelashes casting shadows onto cheeks that I have been lucky enough to caress for so long, and my first thought was one of unyielding love. Gods, it hurts to love you this much, almost as if my heart will burst at the seams from the sheer amount of disbelief and joy. How could a man so flawlessly imperfect be in love with a girl like me? What stars aligned to give me this consciousness in this reality where I get to fall in love and sleep next to you each and every night. I yearn for the day we are married, Loki, but until then, I will crawl back into bed with you and drink in the peace of you. I love you, and I love you more._

I flipped through even more pages. Tears blurring my vision as her words brought about the countless memories that Thanos locked away in my mind. When I saw her, those memories were dug up, springing back to life with such ferocity. In each letter, each poem, each quick sketch of me, I felt the warmth of her love filling my heart like she was still alive. It was both the most comforting thing and the thing that made me wish to join her all the more. Right before I could read through another letter, I felt a familiar presence. While it wasn't the one I had been hoping for, when my eyes met Aaldir's, I was thankful that he had come to see me. It had been far too long since I'd seen the man I harbored so much love and admiration for. He raised the woman I wanted to marry. Though I believed our souls had loved each other since the beginning, he loved her before I had the chance to, and he trusted me to continue on the tradition of loving her as endlessly as he did. I failed.

His dark brown eyes took in the sight of me with a hint of disbelief. He'd never seen me quite like this. He saw me the day I fell from the bridge, but that man was one of madness. He was thirsty for the control and power that had been ripped away from him. That man was desperate to be free to love the woman he was destined to be with, so he betrayed himself and her to gain control. The man became in the wake of her absence, though, was a miserable shell of the man he knew me to be. I closed the book, raking my fingers through my hair until the got caught in the tangled mess, "are you here to tell me how she died?" I choked out, wiping the tears from my cheeks. I failed to wipe them away fast enough, though, "are you here to rub it in my face how I was only gifted a single night with her before she was ripped away from me once more? Did you come here to remind me that my lovers eyes-which lit up my world like the morning sun-will never meet mine again? Or did you come here to show me mercy-to grant me the death I've been begging for since I felt the emptiness in my chest?" I asked, my eyes finally meeting his.

Before he could answer my questions, though, I continued, not knowing if I could handle the answers. I was afraid that he _would_ give me the details of her death, tell me that she had a warrior's end like she was deserving of, but that wasn't what I dreamed for her. I didn't dream that she would die in battle. I dreamed of living out our lives and dying in peace. That was, after all, what she did after a lifetime of fighting Odin's wars. I continued, "you are, after all, the God of Mercy, so I ask you to strike hard and fast, to send me into her loving arms-a fate I've longed for since the start of my pathetic excuse for an existence. I ask you to bury us both beneath the tree where we celebrated our love, beneath the tree where we would have been married. I ask you to forgive me for all I've done, for if I had not spoiled our love, perhaps she wouldn't have been claimed by Death so early. I would've been free to go to Earth with her, and there would have been a chance she could have survived. Please, let me be with her," I begged, my voice breaking as the tears continued to stream down my cheeks.

"You will be with her, but it will not be in death," he blurted out through the lump in his throat. His words sparked a hope within me, but understanding that I couldn't possibly form the question he knew was sitting in my heart, he continued his explanation, "she's still very much alive and recovering on Midgard. By the time we got to her she was-" he cleared his throat, unable to murmur the word. It was a word neither of us ever wanted to associate with her, but I knew what he meant. He forced back the tears, "your brother struck her with a bolt of lightning that restarted her heart, and she remained in a comatose state on the very brink of death for over a week before she finally woke up. I wish I could have come sooner, but I had other matters to tend to. If it wasn't for Thor's decision in the heat of the moment, I'm convinced she would've been lost forever, but she has fully recovered. Look inward, and you will see that she's still very much alive."

I calmed my mind in the way only Eva could teach me how to. Frigga tried to teach me since I was a young boy, but Eva was the one who broke through to me. I drowned out every bit of white noise that clouded my mind from the voices that told me she was dead and that it was my fault to the various scenarios of her death that rose up to greet me whenever I closed my eyes. My eyes fluttered closed as the dungeons became silent. I heard nothing, no voices, no movements, no small voice in the back of my mind telling me the horrible lies that I believed to be truths for so long. All that existed was nothingness. Only in that vast nothing did I feel that ever-present vibration that came with her mere existence. She _was_ still alive. The moment I felt the void, it overcame me to the point that I could feel nothing else. The sound I created drowned out the calming presence she held within my heart. Upon realizing that she was still alive, my heart lightened as a wave of relief hit me, "she's still on Midgard. Why?" I asked, opening my eyes to meet Aaldir's.

"She wishes to return home to you, but there is much you have yet to learn," he answered without _truly_ answering anything at all. Aaldir had always been gifted at that, especially when he was covering up for Eva and I. Mistakes we made were always fixed and dismissed by Aaldir, especially in the presence of Odin who treated it like his ultimate quest to punish the two of us. Aaldir was a master at answering with a nonanswer. He frowned, the expression never looking quite right on his face, "I'm afraid I cannot share the details with you at this moment, for your situation is about to change momentarily. Odin asked for my counsel on what should happen to you in the wake of the coming storm. I know war well enough to know that Cul will come to us to reclaim what is his."

"You may know war, but you do not know my father!" Ezra interjected from his cell, his voice deep and rough as he spoke of his father. It was one of the more shocking things I discovered in our time in the dungeons. Cul described to me the intricacies of Eva's parentage, shared stories of his father, and exchanged only a few words about his mother. He spoke much more softly of her than he did his father, a man he clearly harbored respect or fear toward; it was difficult to tell the difference in those crazed eyes.

Aaldir cast his gaze over his shoulder at Ezra, "I've known men like your father all my life, and-"

Ezra cut him off, his eyes flashing red as the rage trailed down into the veins of his hands, causing them to glow with the same unrelenting fire, "there are no men like him!" he yelled words that were so familiar to me, words that were similar to those I declared on Midgard.

"The nine realms in all their differences have each experienced their fair share of tyranny, death, and destruction that have come at the hands of those who shared the same archetypal labyrinth of characteristics as your father. I've known men like him, and I've defeated men like him," Aaldir argued back, shaking his head in clear disappointment. He had been through more than most men and women could claim. He'd seen so much war and ruin in his time, so much death. I wished to know who he was as a boy, to get a glimpse of the child that still lived within him. I saw the twinkle of hope and youth in his sad eyes when he looked at Eva and Hjalmar, but the universe had never been particularly kind to him, even though he offered up nothing _but_ kindness and mercy. I wished to know if this was the man he always dreamed he would become...or if I was the only one who disappointed my younger self. Aaldir continued with conviction, his voice turning into a low growl that held more rage than that of the wild wolves in his woods as he pulled me from my darkening thoughts, "if he comes to us, if he threatens my family or the people I love, I will do it again."

"_She's not your family!_" Ezra snapped, the fire burning even brighter in his eyes, "she belongs to you as much as the air in my lungs belongs to me. It is fleeting. You have tried to tame the wind, and you will see soon enough that you failed."

"You will try to test her loyalty, and you will lose," Aaldir barked, his voice never faltering. For all intents and purposes, Eva was his daughter. He raised her from the time she was a baby, and he showed her the unconditional love that every child needed. He didn't try to tame the wildness in her because he knew that it was what made her who she was: a little girl he would give his life for since day one. He never tried to tame her, but we both knew that Ezra spoke of something much more sinister. He believed that there was an evil within her that just had to be coaxed out, that it had been laying dormant for a thousand years because the light was kept from shining on that part of her being. We all knew better. She wasn't that person...she _couldn't _be.

_He doesn't know death yet; he hasn't met me_.

Her words continued to echo in my mind, and I knew she was in danger. It wasn't until recently that I saw her unquenchable thirst for revenge, that I witnessed the anger that was silent within her for a millenia and suddenly began to speak. It was no surprise that the change occurred with Ezra's arrival on Midgard, or maybe it was after I left her in the garden. There was so much time that we spent apart from one another that I couldn't pinpoint the moment her fear sparked a rage in her. Ezra would know how to corrupt that, how to bring about a darkness that the universe has never seen from her, and I couldn't let that happen. While it was obvious that she could protect herself, this would be an unfair fight. She didn't know what she was capable of..._I_ didn't even know what she was capable of. What she could become didn't matter to me, though, but I would fight until my last breath to keep her from destroying herself. If she did fall into the pit of darkness that Ezra seemed to know all too well, it would destroy her if she found the light afterward, "there's something she doesn't share with you that she does with us..._blood_. She will accept her place with us, or we will paint the streets of Asgard red and force her hand," Ezra threatened, a twisted grin forming on his lips. I watched as Aaldir became tense. His jaw clenched as he thought of the potential danger that Asgard would be put in. If Cul's plan unfolded the way Ezra claimed it would, if they laid waste to Asgard, Eva would willingly sacrifice herself to stop it. They were planning on forcing her hand. In Aaldir's silence, Ezra took the opportunity to continue, "the great wolf is fearful. She will learn how to be strong despite your _weakness_."

A rustling that sounded a short distance from the entrance of the dungeons pulled Aaldir's attention before he turned his gaze back over to me, ignoring Ezra's threats, "Cul will come here regardless of the next steps we take, so I took it upon myself to convince the Allfather that you could pose a great threat should Cul find you and release you," he explained, my heart dropping at the sound of those words. He finally lost his faith in me, just as so many others had. He didn't even lose his faith when he fought me on the bridge, aiding my brother in a desperate attempt to save me from myself. Tears welled up in my eyes as I felt nothing but sheer disappointment in myself. I lowered my eyes, unable to look at him as the shame washed over me, "you should know me well enough by now to know that I _don't _believe that, but Cul doesn't know the winding halls of these dungeons as well as a handful of us do. You need to know that I said what I said to ensure your safety in the war to come. If he knows where you are, he'll use you to get to Eva, and if that doesn't work, he'll execute you. I gave her my word to protect you. This is the best I can do," he explained with conviction.

My eyebrows furrowed. This was our first interaction after everything I had done. I was prepared for him to hate me for what I put his family through. I abandoned them all when I abandoned Eva, but he forgave me before I even had the opportunity to apologize. What deed had I performed that was wholesome enough to deserve people like him in my life? He treated me like more of a son than Odin ever did, taking me into his home and seating me at his table as if I was one of his own. Even when I was cast aside, I knew that there was always a place for me in that cottage. The lump in my throat rendered me unable to speak, but Ezra took the silence as an opportunity to threaten a man who had done nothing to deserve that treatment, "my father will find him regardless of the steps you take to hide him, and if he _can't_, we'll find him together," he hissed, madness building in his voice. I glared at him as his eyes flickered over to me, "my father is a hunter, and by being her beloved, you have made yourself his prey. These dungeons aren't deep enough to hide you away from him, especially when capturing you would be rewarded with her surrender."

Before I could speak in an attempt to defend her strength to a man who clearly knew very little about her, Aaldir turned his attention back over to a man whose mere presence seemed to cause him so much grief and guilt combined, "you will be joining him, Ezra," he confessed, his voice thick with unshed tears, "I failed to protect you before, and I'd sooner die than let that happen again," he continued, his eyes telling a story I didn't know the plot to. There was something in the past that I wasn't gifted the knowledge of, but I knew that with time, Eva would explain everything to me. While her past didn't define who she was, it would shape pieces of her, and I knew that if she was aware of her lineage, it was tearing her apart.

"If you think this sentiment will save you, it won't," Ezra hissed, his eyes glowing red as even more rage coursed through him. He frightened me on a deeper level than even Thanos had managed. Ezra knew so much about Eva without even truly knowing her. Thanos didn't know what made her tick the way Ezra seemed to. The man who bore a striking resemblance to her, knew that I was one of the few pieces of weakness in her heart. My love was as immovable as a mountain, but when it came to her loved ones, she was a leaf in the wind. He knew exactly how to wind her up and play her like a music box. For one of Asgard's greatest enemies to know such intimate details about its greatest defender was bone-chilling.

Aaldir shook his head, "I'm not planning on it saving me. In fact, I plan on meeting my end when I face your father on the battlefield, but if I can protect you from him the way I couldn't do when you were just an innocent child, when my hand was forced, my death will be worth something. I still see you as my son just as much as Eva is my daughter."

"_You're not our father!_" Ezra screamed, pounding his fist against the wall as the blackened mist continued to spread around him. He was crazed.

The God of Mercy flinched away from the words that stung, a reaction that I guessed would've been similar to someone plunging a knife through his heart. The words cut through him, but he collected himself quickly, offering a kind smile to the man who threatened his home, his daughter, and himself. There was a history there that I was uncertain of, a history that I wished would play before me like a long forgotten memory that was pulled to the surface. There was so much pain, yet so much love in Aaldir's deep brown eyes as he looked at Ezra, "you have no idea what I would've done to keep you both," he murmured, his voice as calming as the sound of the water lapping against the shore. It brought me back to sinking my toes in the sand with Eva by my side when we travelled up to Maine to stay in one of Howard's many beachfront homes in an attempt to go about our stay on Midgard as domestically as possible. If I held the memory close enough, it would keep me warm in the cold depths of the dungeons. Aaldir continued, "there's a piece of you-one that was buried deep when your father tore your innocence away-that is glad that I spared her and gave her the life you were _both _meant to have. You still love her, and that's part of the reason why you want to get to her before your father does. You know what he'll do to her, and you'd rather die than watch that happen. You may hate me; you may despise me, but for a short time, you were mine. I saw you as my son, a child that was deserving of love and nurturing just as any. I didn't see you as a monster."

"What about now?" Ezra asked, the mist falling away from him as his eyes returned to the color of spring. He was calm, filled with the serenity that Aaldir managed to instill in so many. There was a vulnerability in him that I never expected, and for just a moment, I saw Eva's light in him.

"I still don't," Aaldir answered, cementing himself as one of the most forgiving men I'd ever known in all my life. He represented the mercy that a ruler should've had, and I saw that same merciful side in Eva even though she wasn't his blood, "little more than a thousand years ago, your mother brought the two of you to me with tears in her eyes. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen at that point in my life. There was so much darkness in her, but when she held the two of you, there was nothing but light. She only wanted what was best for you both. Before she left, I promised her that I would protect you and your sister with my life, and that's what I'm going to do until I take my last breath. Even if it is you who drives the sword through my heart, it matters not to me. I am a man of my word," he stated, a vision of the future flashing across his eyes. Of all the people I had lost in my life, his death would prove to be one of the hardest, "when this is all over, I hope you can forgive me for this. The lower dungeons will not be kind to you, but you will be safe there until this ends."

I shook my head, "I don't care about my safety. It would mean nothing without her. If Asgard is dangerous, keep her away."

He chuckled, that familiar twinkle in his deep brown eyes. It was always present when he spoke of her, as if she were a goddess and he was just a mere mortal, "you've known my daughter for over a thousand years; therefore, you should know by now that she maintains an undying loyalty to the people she loves. If she thinks that her presence on Asgard could keep you safe-could keep _anyone_ safe-I would be unable to convince her otherwise. I'd sooner be able to move a mountain with my bare hands than turn her away from you. Such is love, though, Loki. A goddess walks among us each day, a bringer of life, and you hold her whole heart; cherish it," he advised me, "should we never meet again, should I experience my warriors death on the battlefield-"

I cut him off, angry that he would be so cruel as to bring up a part of life that I knew to be inevitable. None of us could escape death, but there was no need for preemptive goodbye's. I cared not to wallow in misery that had not greeted me, yet. Losing him would've been like losing the only father I ever had, and the mere thought of it was enough to make me crumble, "speak not of such things!" I snapped at him, feeling the heat of anger in my chest. He would die an old man after Eva and I welcomed our children into the world. He needed to have time with them, to give them the same pieces of joy that he bestowed upon Eva, Hjalmar, and myself while we were growing up. He wasn't finished. There was still more time.

"I wish for you to know this," he struggled to speak. His tears were those of grief for a life that he had a feeling would be cut short. Part of his grief, I knew, was that he would be leaving his daughter in the world, hoping only that he had helped her build a sturdy enough foundation to build the rest of her life upon. He was aware of his importance in the lives of those around him. It hurt my heart to watch the man, who taught me how to _be_ a man, crack ever so slightly before me. I knew that he needed to say the words in his heart before he left, so I remained silent, watching as he steadied his trembling hands, "the moment I held her in my arms for the first time, I wished for one thing and one thing only: I wished for her to be happy. I wished for her to find that happiness in herself first, and she did. Then, I wished for her to spread that happiness and kindness to the world, and she did. I prayed for the universe to send her whatever man or woman she would tie her soul to for an eternity, and the sky opened up to shine its light on you. You were the happiness I wished for her since she was just an infant who could've been lost in my arms. You were everything I hoped for and more," he confessed, causing my heart to swell with uncontainable pride. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I struggled to hold them back.

"Even in the moments that darkened her skies, you continued to teach her. Your absence made her more sure of herself. Your fall from the Bifrost made her even more passionate about life, about spreading the love you still filled her with to the world around her. What happened in New York made her stronger than ever before. She broke, but she learned how to put herself back together, binding the pieces of her shattered spirit back together with gold so that she would shine more beautifully than ever before. Now, she burns with the intensity of a dying star, but she will not fade. You taught her how to love herself by loving her so deeply. You should know that I love you as if you were my own, for you are the light my daughter wanders to when she is uncertain," he continued, those words finally breaking me. The tears began to flow silently down my cheeks as I bit my bottom lip to stop it from quivering. I loved him like a father. He protected me and loved me, and it took such a long time for me to realize that my actions didn't affect their love for me. He still stood before me with the same paternal love in his eyes for me as he did before I tore apart everything good I ever had, "you have given her a lifetime of happiness and a lifetime of strength. I am forever grateful, and _you_ are forever loved. I care not of what name you hold, for you are my family. I look forward to the day when I can hand the very heart of my life over to you under the eyes of the Gods because I know that she will be treated like a queen even without a crown."

* * *

***Eva's POV***

My eyes caught the familiar figure standing at the window, staring out at the city. He was the last person I wanted to see, since it was a reminder that my mind would never truly be my own with him around. Ezra's frame was massive even in the over-the-top room that Tony had given to me as my own personal sleeping quarters; however, I spent every waking moment in the confines of the room, gazing out at the city just as Ezra did. The more he visited my mind, the more I was realizing how similar we were. He admired the humans like I did, but he had no great love for them, which was where we differed. I had a great love for every living thing, but he looked at the Midgardians as insignificant, all-too-temporary creatures. With his back turned to me, I took the opportunity to close the space between us, standing directly beside him. While he was my enemy-an enemy of my people-I still couldn't shake the bond that we shared, the one that pulled me closer and closer to a man who seemed hell-bent on shattering my world into pieces. Perhaps that was my calling, though. What if I was meant to love the "unlovables" and understand the misunderstood? What if I was meant to empathize with the villains and nurture the blood-soaked, battle-hardened warriors?

As I took my place beside him, the connection growing stronger and stronger with every passing second, I listened to his heartbeat. He was...uncertain? There was a fear in him that I didn't feel until that moment as we stood beside each other. His normal demeanor faded away, the facade giving way to his true face. His green eyes that perfectly matched mine were no longer harsh and cold, they were distant. He was lost in thought, a million scenarios racing through his mind all at once as he stared out into the night sky. The man he became right before my eyes wasn't the same man who threatened to kill everyone I loved. As his insecurity threatened to swallow him whole, a comfortable silence formed between us. No words needed to be spoken. My presence beside him was all I could offer: some strange form of support, "you shouldn't return to Asgard," he finally warned me, trying to cover up the vulnerability that his words exposed to me.

I snickered, crossing my arms over my chest, "don't tell me what to do." My eyes flickered up to meet his as the grin remained a fixture on my lips.

"Do you want to know something?" he asked, a genuine smile forming on his lips. It was becoming one of the strangest encounters I ever had with my enemy, but in the moment, he didn't feel like my enemy or Asgard's enemy; he felt like a missing piece of myself-the one I had been looking for all my life.

I shook my head, "not really, no," I answered with the same playfulness I used to use with Hjalmar. It came so naturally with Ezra in that moment.

"You're _exactly _how I pictured you to be, you know?" he asked, turning away from me as if he felt a level of shame in admitting something with so much vulnerability. His words caught me off guard, but I continued to listen intently, watching his facial expression the whole time, "when I found out that I had a sister, a twin who was only a few minutes younger than me, I always pictured her to be this...gentle beauty, filled with the peace I never had the luxury of knowing. Then, there would be a part of her that was wild, a fierceness that would match my own. She would have the sharp tongue and warrior spirit of our father and the beauty and resilience of our mother," he noted, his voice softening as he spoke of her. There was a clear love there, a connection that I felt with her since before we even met. There was a twinkle in his eye the moment he mentioned her, and I couldn't ignore that the same twinkle was there when he looked at me a moment ago, "I dreamt of you every night, wondering if you were somewhere in the universe, unable to escape your neverending dreams of me. I wondered what it would be like to be close to you, but the closest I ever came in all those lonely years was in my dreams. Those dreams were the only beautiful things I had."

"You grew up with our parents...that was something beautiful in and of itself," I retorted, trying to get him to see that he had something incredibly beautiful, something I wished I could've had. While I had the most loving, incredible upbringing with a father and brother who loved me with their whole hearts, there was still a piece of me that yearned for what I did not have. I grew up filled with questions, wondering what I had done that made them not want me. It wasn't until more than a thousand years into my life that I received the answers I was looking for, but for the first millennia, I was filled with self-doubt and confusion. He didn't have to live with that. He didn't wake up in the morning and wonder what his parents looked like or what their names were. He _had _them.

He shook his head, "if you knew the man our father was, you wouldn't envy my upbringing in the slightest," he frowned at his own response. Memories flashed before his eyes, and I fought back the urge to reach out and touch him, knowing that he was only an illusion anyway. I didn't want to disappoint myself when my hand would inevitably phase through his arm. He cleared his throat and collected himself before continuing to speak, "at night, I would fall asleep in sheer darkness, and I would open my eyes in my dream world of light and beauty where I would chase you around a forest with not a care or fear in the world. I've never been partial to wooded areas or dense forests-one could say I was fearful of them-but...you were the one leading me, so it didn't seem all that terrible. You were always just out of reach, though, which seemed rather fitting. Part of me always hoped you would stay that way forever, that you would never be close enough to see me, to feel what I could do to you, what these hands were _made _to do," he cursed himself, glancing down at his slender fingers that were calloused with years of war and destruction.

"They were made to be hands; it's you who decides what to do with them," I reminded him before another comfortable silence fell between the two of us. There were so many words that he wished to say-I could feel them-but he refused to speak them. He wished to try to convince me that he was a monster. While I believed that in our previous interactions, there was a doubt in my mind that arose with the one we found ourselves in. I would've fought him, and he was aware of that. Not wishing to argue with me, he remained quiet, and I took the opportunity to think on his words. He dreamt of me, and as we stood in the presence of one another, so many of the more inconsequential memories of my childhood came flooding back to me. I remembered the dreams, the ones I awoke from, eager to speak to my father about the boy from them. He brushed them off in front of me, but I could vividly remember the flash of fear in his eyes, "I dreamt of you, too, especially when we were children. The dream was always the same, though-similar to the one you had, but the roles were reversed. I would chase you through the woods, and we would come to this cliff-"

He cut me off, "that was adjacent to the waterfall," he noted, turning his eyes to meet my own.

I was shocked at how familiar he was of those woods. I knew them like the back of my hand, but I grew up in that forest. Clearly, my dream was one he had often enough to remember such a vivid detail. I didn't want to ask him questions about his familiarity, but I nodded in response to the one he asked, "the one that was adjacent to the waterfall," I murmured, staring up into those perfect green eyes that held none of the anger and rage I had seen in them previously, none of the abhorrence he seemed to harbor for me. Those green eyes were filled with the same serenity as those of Death. I saw so much of her grace and patience in his eyes as we stood beside each other, and I couldn't bring myself to look away, to ignore the sheer beauty of him, "the cliff was high above the water, but it was deep enough that we wouldn't get hurt should we decide to jump. Still, you always offered to jump first, like you were trying to protect me should the water be too shallow at the bottom. I would watch you jump and pierce the surface of the water, but you never came back up for air. I would jump and stay under the water looking for you until-"

He cut me off again, "until you almost drowned," he finished for me once more.

"Until I almost drowned," I echoed his words with a nod. He had the same vision more than once, but I wondered if he was on the other side of them, if he was the one that jumped in after me. I wondered if he stayed under until it felt like the water would crush him as he searched for me. I wondered if he still tried to find me even as he ran out of breath, his lungs beginning to sting and beg for air. I wondered if he woke up crying after he failed to reach me, and if he wished for the dream to come around again because maybe-_just maybe_-he could succeed the next time around, "and I was always willing to stay under if it meant I could find you, this...seemingly _imaginary _friend from my dreams, the boy without a name...just like me. Together, we were the nameless ones," I choked on the lump in my throat, thinking of the years that melancholy seemed to follow me. I was happy, though. I lived a life filled with love, but everything I did was tinged with a hint of sadness because there was a part of me that was missing. I took a deep breath, forcing back every tear that could possibly betray me, "all my life, even in my happiest moments, it was like something was missing, and when I first saw you, I knew that it was you. You were the boy from those buried dreams, the ones that I can only recall when we're together. You were the missing piece of my life, and I wish I could change that. I want nothing more than for us to have no connection at all because you are everything I never wanted."

"Gods, tell me what you really think," he snickered, trying to lighten the mood.

I shook my head, "no, you know what I mean, though, right?" I asked, worried that my previous words came across as me trying to intentionally hurt his feelings. He was far from thin-skinned, but words could sting, "you came to Asgard, posing a threat to my people, especially the ones I love so dearly. My life was flipped upside down when you appeared in Asgard. You've been in my head for long enough to know that I was on the brink of pulling Loki back, and when that happened, I'd be able to return to Asgard with our daughter. It was a secret to everyone else, but I can't keep those secrets from you, apparently. Your presence tore apart the dreams I had to piece my family back together, and you threatened the lives of my love and my child. You fight for the wrong side, Ezra, and that pains me to see. If we meet on the battlefield in the upcoming war that will transpire, it will be even more heartbreaking to do what needs to be done because our connection is so strong. I wish that the connection didn't exist so that I could stand a chance at walking away from this with the pieces of my heart still salvageable."

A long silence proceeded my words, and I was left wishing that I could sift through his thoughts the way he somehow managed to sift through mine, no matter how many times I sealed the entrance closed. He spoke at length about out connection and how that played a part in how he was able to so easily access my mind to cast the illusion that he stood before me, but I couldn't do the same to him. He was a powerful sorcerer, and I knew that he tampered with the darker pools of magic-places I refused to touch because of my fear of the corruption my father and Frigga spoke of so vehemently. I wondered if that was how he managed to invade my thoughts so easily. After a long silence, he finally spoke again, his voice rougher than before, filled with fear and pain, "don't come back to Asgard," he insisted, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he spoke. It was as if he was trying to distance himself from me, fearing the vulnerability in his own words and the way his voice trembled ever so slightly, betraying him to clue me in on his fear, "what happens here...let it happen. Stay on Midgard and live amongst the humans for the rest of your days. If you come back, I'll be forced to follow through with my mission, which was to take you back to Cul by any means necessary. I can promise you that you don't want the life he would give you. You have no reason to trust me, but I ask that you trust those words."

"I don't want a life of violence, but if violence is what your father wants-"

He cut me off, "_our_ father," he corrected me.

The correction was unnecessary to me, but it meant something to him. Cul was the answer to a question I had since before I could even remember, one of the questions I yearned to know the answer to; however, it was a question and answer I wished to forget if the universe would ever offer me any ounce of mercy. All my life I wanted to know where I came from, but when I discovered my true origins, I wanted nothing more than to forget them, fearing that the answers would leave me tainted. Correcting me, though, meant more to Ezra than just a simple stab at my choice of words. Perhaps he was trying to remind me of the darkness that resided within both of us, a darkness that was placed there by Cul. Maybe it was his way of feeling less alone, by consistently reminding me that we were bound together by blood, "if violence is what he wants, he will be met with a war the nine realms has never seen. I'd sooner die than allow my people to live under tyranny, which is exactly what Cul would bring to Asgard."

He sighed as if he was feeling defeated by my words of anger and frustration, turning to face me. He gestured down to my abdomen, "your body has healed itself of the poison that coursed through you from the wound on your abdomen. You have grown _exponentially _more powerful since we last met, and Cul knows how to open those doors to use that power to his advantage. You will become his weapon," he warned, his tone similar to that of Hjalmar's when we would sit across from the fireplace late at night as he told me scary stories. Whenever Father would catch us, he would scold my older brother before sending us off to bed, but I would sneak into Hjalmar's room to sleep with him at night, knowing that if the monsters in his stories _did_ come, he would protect me from them. Ezra continued, "if you return to Asgard, I will have no choice but to break out of this cell and return you to him. It will mean even more chaos and death than if you were to stay away. You'd be sacrificing the Asgardians freedom, but if you return, you will be sacrificing their _lives_."

I shook my head, growing more and more heated as he tried to turn me away from my home and my people. I didn't care about the throne or the man who sat upon it. While I swore an oath to protect the throne, my main priority was always to protect my fellow Asgardians. They were the soul of my home with all their flaws and imperfections. I loved them even in their more questionable moments, and even though there were some that I had a deeper connection to than others, I would have laid down my life for every single one of them. Ezra didn't understand that, thinking that it would be so easy for me to turn my back on the only home I'd ever known, the people who loved me and raised me, and the memories I made there with people who had gone on ahead of me. It wasn't. I was going to return home no matter how dangerous my home became, "I know my people. They won't sit idly by and watch as their home is taken over by a force like Cul; they will fight him and die by the _hundreds_."

"But _you_ won't!" he finally snapped, his eyes burning red as they had on the battlefield. Mine had begun doing so more and more since he arrived on Asgard, but I tried to think of them as independent events, not tied to one another. His anger and rage seemed to bleed into me, feeding the monster that was already alive and well inside the deepest depths of my soul. He gave life to the monster Odin believed I was, the abomination I always knew myself to be. His sudden burst of anger, though, died away quickly when he realized what he had said, and it came as a shock to me, too. His eyes became that familiar, brilliant emerald green once more as he turned to face the window, "you could live your life in Midgard with you daughter and the new life that you bear as we speak. You would face no more war and ruin, just a simple, peaceful life."

"It seems that I have known nothing _but_ war for all my life, so what is another one?" I asked, shrugging my shoulders at the thought of it. While it would pain me to go to war again, especially fearing for the safety of my unborn child, I was willing to do it again, just as I always have been. War was not in my heart, but when violence came to Asgard, when it threatened the greater good or the fabric of life, I was willing to fight until my last breath. There was a glimmer of hope that someday in the near or far future, there would be a way to go about settling the differences; however, for the time being, when war was brought to the lovers of peace, we fought with the hope that each battle would be the last. I gazed out the window, staring out at the cloudy sky, anticipating another storm, "a warrior doesn't leave the battlefield before the battle has even begun. I am a warrior of Asgard, and I swore an oath to be the shield that protects the nine realms from tyranny, chaos, and ruin. I swore an oath to serve the living, and Cul poses a threat to the very fabric of life. I fear more my inability to protect my people than even the most brutal death," I ranted, my eyes flickering over to him to see how he was reacting to it. As if he could feel my gaze on him, he turned his head even further to the side, not wanting me to see him. He cleared his throat roughly, and I knew that my words had impacted him somehow. My heart ached, for I yearned to reach out and touch him. Even though we were enemies, destined to be on opposing sides of the battlefield, I was tied to him. The only thing I could do to comfort him was to try to lighten the mood, so I forced a smile, "besides, if I were to die, you may finally have some peace and quiet in your own mind for once."

When he turned his gaze back over to me, I saw the wetness in his eyes, causing my heart to implode in on itself. Something was eating him away inside, and I wished to know what it was. I wished to fix whatever I had done that caused him so much grief. The tears, while they were present, would not fall, but as he spoke his final words to me, his voice broke under the pressure of the intensity of that sorrow, "I was willing to stay under the water for you, too, you know."


	29. Only Forever

After Ezra's departure, I had time to think about what was to come. My time on Midgard was coming to an end, and I wished to leave as soon as possible. At one point, I had a nearly nonexistent desire to return to Asgard, for my role as a leader was being questioned by the Allfather. With time, though, I knew the danger that was quickly closing in on my home. No matter how badly I wished to live in peace, I couldn't bring myself to do so while there was war raging on throughout the universe. In the silence, I made a silent promise to myself that this would be my final night on Midgard before I left the following morning. I would say no formal farewells to my companions, for if I watched the sorrow build in their eyes, my fear was that I wouldn't be able to bring myself to leave. They knew that my return to Asgard was inevitable, but my date of departure wasn't set in stone, or so they thought.

I thought of the life I could create with my children and Loki once the threat from Cul was eliminated. A seed of hope was planted as I imagined all that would follow this war should Loki and I live through it together. We would marry and have as many children as we desired. He would meet his daughter, and he would be there for the birth of our next child and every single one that followed. I yearned to return partly to hold him close and divulge the information that Tony had figured out in only a handful of interactions. Gods, I should've known better than to think that I could hide _anything _from that man. Even Ezra was aware of my "condition," which made me even more fearful for the life of my unborn child. If he knew, it wasn't too hard to believe that Cul would also know.

Just as my thoughts began taking a darker turn, my hands trembling just as violently as my knees-like leaves in the wind-there was a knock on my bedroom door. I wrung my hands, calming my nerves as I turned to face the door, "come in," I called out, my voice quivering as my fear remained on the surface.

The door opened just wide enough for Steve to slip his massive frame into the room. The sight of him took my breath away. He looked stunning. He was dressed in an eerily similar outfit as the one he had worn on the night we met. Deep brown trousers were held up by a pair of matching suspenders with vertical gold stripes that matched the color of his hair. His white button up dress shirt was well pressed, and his brown and gold striped tie. In his hands, he held a record and a bouquet of daisies, flowers I watched him draw during the war from time to time. He would sit alone, and I would lower the veil over his eyes as I sat beside him, not wanting to bring him any ounce of confusion or fear. He drew the flowers over and over again, and I was left in awe as I watched him. I furrowed my eyebrows, but before I could ask what he was doing, he answered for me, "Tony tells me that you plan on leaving soon, so...I gotta take my chance," he said, giving me that familiar coy smile. He was still the same man I met at the expo all those years ago. He was still the shy, innocent, marvelous young man that earned a place in my heart the moment our eyes met.

I gazed down at myself, feeling underdressed in one of the many day dresses Natasha pressured me into buying the day Tony gave her his credit card to take both Aurora and I shopping. Aurora grew out of her clothes quickly, but I could sense that her growth was coming to a gradual halt. A few too many of the clerks at the various stores we went to had commented that Aurora and I looked so much alike, causing me to wince at their words. Natasha played it off and laughed about how it was just "phenomenal genes" to keep them from assuming any further into our relationship. With Tony's credit card, Natasha pressured me into picking out more and more clothes until I had an entire wardrobe, even though I insisted on leaving as soon as possible. She claimed that even if I left before wearing them all, I'd have them for when I returned, not willing to think any differently. Natasha had lost enough, and it would be unfair for me to ask her to willingly lose me as well. As I stared down at the dress that reached my knees, a soft green that Nat claimed made my eyes look "even more stunning than usual," I clasped my hands in front of my waist. There was a bashfulness that I was filled with as Steve's eyes drank me in, "I'm definitely underdressed for the occasion," I claimed, our eyes meeting and dancing with that familiar friendliness.

He grinned, "you're even more breathtaking than yesterday, and you'll be even more beautiful tomorrow than you are today. You could wear a paper bag, and I'd still be the one who's underdressed," he joked, his eyes still sparkling the same way they did when we first met. He knew war just as I had, but it didn't break his spirit. The man he used to be, the fighter with a youthful spirit, was still alive inside him. That same boyishness got the best of him when his eyes reconnected with mine after he seemingly studied every piece of me. He cleared his throat with a deep blush rising to his cheeks, "I got these for you," he stammered, closing the space between us in a few graceful strides as he held out the bouquet of daisies. His eyes flickered away from mine, and I was reminded of the shy boy I met all those years ago.

I reached out for the flowers, our hands brushing against each other when I gripped the stems. I brought them up to my nose, breathing in the sweet smell of them. Admiring them, I spoke, not thinking of the impact my words would have, "you used to draw these in your notebooks at night," I murmured, my fingers trailing delicately over the smooth white petals. Steve's breath hitched, and there was a stunned silence that fell between us. I would have to explain that to him. I glanced up at him, "I used to sit right beside you in your isolation, and I'd watch you draw these all day. You'd draw them in vases, growing wildly, in the hands of a woman-"

He cut me off, "they were yours," he interjected, his eyes searching mine for any ounce of disgust or shock. I knew that there was a love between the two of us that was more than just platonic, that he felt things for me that I couldn't bring myself to feel for anyone else but Loki, and the man who stood before me was never upset with me over that. He found none of the disgust he feared, but I watched my eyes fill with surprise as his response sunk in. Steve continued, "daisies symbolize purity and innocence..._love_. Not a day went by that I didn't think of you. I'd go to sleep and dream about you-the most incredible woman I'd ever met in all my life. You were more than just your outer beauty, and I knew that the moment we shook hands the night of the expo. No other woman even gave me the time of day, brushing me off like I was a pest, but you looked me in the eyes and treated me like I mattered. You were at the forefront of my mind every single day after that, and you embodied exactly what the daisies symbolized: purity, innocence, and love. I always dreamed of coming back from the war, finding you, and giving you a bouquet of daisies. You were the purest thought I had during the war, so I drew the daisies as I daydreamed of you...the girl I should've danced with when I had the chance. With that said, I have a chance _now_, so I was wondering if you would care to dance with me?" he asked with hope-filled eyes.

I smiled up at him as he waited for my answer with bated breath. He looked at me with the same anticipation as Loki did when he asked me to marry him. Both men had entertained the scenario that I would deny them of their proposition, but they both should've known me better, "I may step on your toes," I murmured, recalling the words he once said to me.

Those blue eyes lit up with pure joy, "well, as long as I can step on your toes a few times, we'll make a great pair," he echoed the same words I used all those years ago. Stepping away from me, he walked over to the record player in the room; Tony had them littered throughout the tower, vastly preferring the sound of records over anything else. He had an old soul like his father. I placed the bouquet of daisies on the nightstand, "I heard this song the night of the expo after we parted ways, and it's been my favorite song ever since. This record was the first thing I bought after they...defrosted me. It was my touchstone to the past where I thought I left you, and I mourned you every night after they brought me back to the world. I thought I'd never see you again, so I listened to this song and cried, thinking of how stupid I was to pass up the opportunity to dance with you."

The music began, and he turned to look at me. We closed the space between us, but once we stood before each other, the confidence he had only seconds prior seemed to disappear as the bashful young man returned to him. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, gazing down at me behind those long lashes. I stepped closer to him, pressing my body against his and snapping him out of the trance he seemed to fall into. His right arm snaked around my waist, and he held my right hand with his left one, pressing it to his chest, covering it with his own. My left hand rested delicately against his arm, "dance with me like it's the last time," I pleaded, gazing up into his eyes as I lost myself in the sheer love I felt for him. My future was uncertain, and it could very well be our first, last, and _only _dance.

He smirked, "well, if this is the last time I'll ever hold you, you should know that I'm never letting you go," he murmured as we began to sway back and forth to the gentle melody. The lyrics carried a great weight for Steve, and with every new verse, his arm tightened around me. He mourned me more than once before, and he was terrified of ever having to go through that again. He rested his head against mine, and I listened intently to the gentle humming that was born deep in his chest. Midway through the song, he sung the lyrics that clearly held a deeper meaning to him than I realized, "_do you think I'll remember how you look when you smile? Only forever-that's putting it mild_," he sang, his voice becoming thick with tears. I did the only thing that felt right in the moment, and I pulled myself even closer to him, our bodies flush against the other. I rested my head on his shoulder, breathing in the sweet smell of him. He buried his face in my hair, and we danced through the remainder of the song in complete silence as I drank in every lyric because it was his way of professing his love to me.

His hold on me tightened as our song came to an end and the next one began. The sudden lift in the tempo didn't stop the slow swaying of our bodies. He didn't pick up the pace, and neither did I. It was as if he wasn't even listening to the music anymore, but instead, he listened to me the way I listened to him. I listened to the sound of him shifting his weight from side to side, his steady breathing, the slow rhythm of his heartbeat, and the sound that occurred when my fingers danced along his shirt. We lost ourselves in the moment and each other. I was brought back to a simpler time when I was in his arms, a time when Loki and I loved without boundaries and restrictions. Steve brought me back to simplicity, and I found myself able to enjoy the little moments of silence once more. I loved the noise-the constant sound of life-but there was a beauty in the silence that I had forgotten about until that moment in his strong arms. After two songs of the two of us swaying back and forth, casting wordless glances at one another, I finally spoke, "you're missing the jacket," I noted, remembering the one article of clothing he was wearing the night we met that he wasn't wearing when he entered my room to ask me to dance.

He snickered, "it was a tragedy that I wore that thing in the first place," he joked, burying his face into my hair before he kissed the top of my head.

I pulled back just enough to catch the blue eyes that warmed my very soul. He was deeper than others witnessed. They saw the tip of the iceberg, not the fullness of it that rested beneath the surface of the water. I saw through the blue eyes that were flecked with green and bits of gold, and I saw right into that remarkable soul. So many people saw the hero but failed to see the man; they failed to see that the hero _was_ the man, that the two were interchangeable. I smiled up at him, which caused that adoring grin to tug at his own lips, "you were a very handsome young man back in the 40's, Captain, and you're still just as handsome. Not a single thing changed in my mind. You got taller, and you grew into the clothes, but you're still the same hopeless romantic, honorable, selfless, spectacular man. Don't sell yourself short. The jacket looked good on you," I replied, stroking the back of his neck with my left hand.

"The jacket was what sold you on me, huh?" he laughed, the room brightening around us even as the night drew nearer. It was the _last_ night, and it could potentially be the final hours I would spend with some of the people I loved so dearly. The laughter fell away, and he cleared his throat. I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering what happened to turn the moment into such a solemn one, but I couldn't speak when I caught the tears in his eyes. My heart began to ache as he spoke, "I dressed this way because...I can't have that night back. That was the last night of love and laughter...the last carefree night I had in my life, and I took it for granted. I took _you_ for granted. I wanted to keep just _one_ piece of it alive because the only other thing that stayed the same was you. We aren't hearing the music live, and you don't have on that stunning blue dress, and Howard isn't jumping off of a stage to get your attention, and Loki's not standing beside you with his pinky brushing yours every few minutes, and..._Bucky_-" his voice faltered as one single tear betrayed him. The second it fell, he reached up to wipe it away, but I was faster. My fingers brushed the tear from his cheek, and I cradled his face in my hand, waiting for another one to fall. His bottom lip quivered, but he pressed through to finish what he started...he _always_ finished what he started, "Bucky isn't looking at you like you're the only woman in the world-like you're the only person he's ever even seen-even though he brought two pretty girls with him that night. Howard isn't here, Loki isn't here, and _Bucky_ isn't here, so I _had_ to do everything in my power to trick myself into thinking that we were hurled back in time to when things were simpler, better, _happier_," he explained, swallowing back his emotions.

I stopped swaying with him, and he followed suit, his body coming to a halt in my arms. My hands cupped his cheeks, our eyes melting into each others like the ocean meeting the land. Pushing myself up, I pressed a kiss to his forehead, lingering there for a long moment as the bittersweetness he felt poured into me, our two souls bleeding into one just like it had so long ago. We felt the sorrow and the joy _together_. He leaned into me, his right arm pulling me flush against his strong body. Pulling my lips from his forehead, I pressed my forehead to his, drinking in the way it felt to have someone hold me the way he did. Loki held me like I was his love from the beginning of time; the way he held me was familiar and filled with beautiful sentiments. Steve held me like every moment was our very first moment, like he was falling in love with me for the first time every second he held me, but I couldn't love him the way he deserved. His nose brushed against mine, causing a sad smile to flicker across my lips.

I leaned back once more to gaze up into his eyes, "you're right, Steve. Bucky and Howard aren't here. Loki isn't here. You and I, though..._we_ are here," I reminded him, knowing that he was still living in the past-something I did far too often. The world around us became heavier and heavier with each passing day, and there were moments in our history that were filled with the warmth of love we wished to drown ourselves in, warmth that didn't exist in our present. Still, there was goodness in each moment, little specks of light in even the darkest night, moments of peace in the chaos, moments of joy in the misery. I continued to stroke his cheek as he leaned into my touch, "I don't like dating myself, but...I've been alive for a _long_ time-over a thousand years-and losing people, especially people you love so dearly, never gets easier. You dressed like this to bring back that night when there were three other people with us who aren't here anymore. One of which, you may see again someday, but Howard and Bucky…" my voice broke, and I knew that I couldn't continue down that path without breaking down into a mess of tears, "the point is that we can't find our only happiness in the past, Steve...that's no way to live. Neither of those men would've wished that on us, _especially _not on you," I murmured, clearing my throat to hold back the tears that threatened to fall the moment my voice broke. In a desperate attempt to lighten the mood, one of my most endearing memories of Howard surfaced, and I let out a laugh that seemed to come from nowhere, "you know, Howard asked me to marry him that night. After Bucky left, Howard and I danced, and he asked me to leave Loki to marry him instead. He told me that he'd buy me the biggest, most beautiful ring in all of New York, and we'd have the most lavish wedding. Gods, I can remember it like it was yesterday."

"I would've gone dancing _just_ to see that!" he exclaimed before the two of us lost ourselves in a fit of giggles, remembering the man we both harbored such a great love for. Steve wasn't around to see Howard's downfall, but I was. Still, I had a deep love for the man. As our laughter died down, another song began, and Steve began swaying once more, pulling me back into the movements with him. We fell into a perfect rhythm with one another, continuing to snicker at Howard's lack of subtlety when it came to his feelings for me. He was bold, but he was normally much more charismatic and smooth. With me, he was upfront about his intentions, and he was a man of spontaneity at one point in his life. Once the laughter died away completely, Steve's voice pulled at the one loose end I didn't want to talk about, the string that was attached to the _one_ person I could no longer imagine a single day without. I kept hearing her, and I felt her presence day in and day out. It was making it impossible to even consider leaving without her, but I _had_ to, "she wants to get close to you, Eva. I know you don't want to believe it, but she does," he spoke, his voice wavering as he brought up the subject that I so diligently fled from.

I shook my head, "I won't let her," I murmured, my heart aching at the very idea of letting her close enough to tear down the wall I built up between us. I worked so hard to keep her at a distance, knowing that the safest place for her was as far away from me as she could get. Then, I was swept right back into her love like I never left in the first place, which made me realize that I was still just a scared little girl, afraid to lose the people I loved. She was the _most_ important person in my story, even if I had to make her a background character to keep her alive until the end.

"Why not?" he asked, his voice suddenly filled with conviction, "I mean, I _know_ that this is killing you, and it's killing her, too. She's intrigued by you. She knows there's something different between the two of you," he explained, pulling away just enough to gaze down into my watery eyes. Speaking about her was almost as hard as looking at her. Knowing that I introduced a light into the universe and then _abandoned_ her-the wish and dream I hoped for every day and night for as long as I could remember-made me sick to my stomach. I was no good for her. I abandoned her like I had been abandoned. I knew the pain of not knowing and the confusion that came with trying to figure out the solution to a puzzle that was missing too many pieces. I put my own child through that, and that made me a monster. Steve continued through the lump in his throat that formed the moment he saw the tears in my eyes, "the day we got here, she caught a glimpse of your face, and that was enough for her. That girl slept on the floor outside your room every single night because every time she tried to come in, she was given a reason not to. I caught her in here with you one day, holding your hand and just watching you as you slept, like she was sitting vigil at the bedside of her closest friend..._her mother_. You didn't get to see it, but I did. I saw love in its truest form when I watched her with you. All she wants is to know where she belongs, and she's being pulled to you by fate, just like I am. If you opened up to her and let her in, if you gave her back the knowledge of who you are-who _she_ is-there's nothing to be gained from this but happiness and love. You're worthy of those things, Eva. You may not believe it, but you _are_."

"You wouldn't care for me if you knew where I came from," I murmured, my voice low with shame as I thought of the darkness my life was born from. It was only a matter of time before I found my way back to that darkness, and I couldn't pull the people I loved there with me, "you'd probably hate me," I forced a laugh that was cut short when my eyes filled to the brim with tears. One lone tear broke away from the whole and streamed down my cheek, but it wasn't quick enough because before it could make it to my chin, Steve's delicate fingers swept it away before resuming its place covering my hand that rested on his chest.

"I don't think I would," he argued, shaking his head as he dismissed the very idea that he could ever bring himself to hate me. I didn't know why it seemed so unfathomable to him, though. I hated myself since before I could even remember, hated the very essence of who I was because _how_ could I love myself when the people who were meant to love me couldn't even bring themselves to do that? I hated myself even after I learned that my mother's decision to give me up wasn't born of disdain but for a fear of what would come of my future if I was close to her. I hated myself because even after finding out where I came from, what I was meant to be, I realized that I was the embodiment of every childhood fear I ever had. Unlike Hjalmar, I wasn't afraid of the dark as a child, and that always confused my father; however, it made sense to _me_ when I discovered who I was. I wasn't afraid of the darkness because I _was_ the darkness-I was born in it, lived it, _felt_ it. I was afraid of death, and I became the embodiment of that, the offspring of death and destruction. That was my beginning, and I used that knowledge to fuel my self-loathe. Steve couldn't see it, though. He loved with no logic or reason...and I saw it written all over his face that day. I heard it in his words, "we don't have the liberty of choosing our beginnings."

Smiling at the purity of his words, I shook my head, dismissing them the same way he dismissed my insistence that he would hate me. He would understand someday, and if he didn't understand, I would _make _him understand, "Odin doesn't see it that way. I'm a threat to the whole of Asgard. He knows who my parents are, and he never had any great love for Loki. Odin treated me like I was a castaway in Asgard all my life until I made a name for myself and pledged to fight for the throne. The first time I received any acknowledgement as an Asgardian was when I promised him my blood and life. I wanted to prove myself, but Odin continued to harbor resentment toward me, a resentment I never understood until recently," I noted, my voice falling low once more as the image of her flashed before my eyes. It seemed like only yesterday, she was this tiny infant in my arms, a little life that I brought into the world with eyes that matched mine and hair that was identical to her father's. She was perfect. She was everything I always dreamed I could be and more. _She_ was my dream-the dawn of my new _life_. My bottom lip quivered, "Aurora is the product of two of the beings Odin fears the most. She was born of my blood, which is the same blood that runs through the veins of one of the most powerful and dangerous Asgardian Gods in history and Death herself. All this time I thought that I could somehow make our realm safer for her by rehabilitating Loki, but..._I_ am the reason why she'll never be safe."

Steve didn't even bat an eyelash at the revelation that I was the daughter of Death, that the very entity that embodied darkness and mortality was the very being that brought me into existence. There wasn't even a fleeting look of fear in his eyes. He was the first person I told, the first of my loved ones who I trusted with my parentage, and he didn't even pay it any mind. It was the same reaction he would've had if I told him that my favorite color was blue. All he did was smile down at me, determination clear in those crystal eyes, "then come back," he insisted, his voice filled with hope that I would agree to the idea that he was about to lay out for me, "I have some free space in the apartment, and you can stay as long as you want. You told me that you managed to free Loki once already, so do it again and bring him here. He may have a difficult time getting people to warm up to him after...everything that happened, but we all just want to see you happy. I know him from before. I know the man he used to be, and if you say that he's returned to that person-if you say that he's even _half_ the man he once was-I'd be glad to call him a friend again. You're the glue that holds this team together, Eva. There's so much love here for you, and there's more than enough to spread that to Loki, too."

Tears of joy streamed down my cheeks as I felt the warmth of Steve's loyalty to me. It was the kind of warmth that pierced right through the surface of my skin and spread the comfort right into my bones. He brushed away the tears as I smiled up at him. The mere idea that I could piece my family back together-the idea that so many people were willing to help me accomplish that-was overwhelming. It dawned on me that it was the perfect moment to tell Steve. The tears dried, and I tried to fight back a grin, "you say that there's more than enough love to spread to Loki, but...what about someone else?" I asked, hinting to the secret that only Tony knew about. The process was happening just as fast as before, and it wouldn't be long until my secret was visible.

"Absolutely!" he exclaimed, his eyes bright with excitement, "Tony told us about Harley and Kaia when he was giving his full recollection of what happened. They're more than welcome to come with you if you decide to come and stay with me. They belong wherever you are. Aurora has her own room right now, but she'd have no problem sharing her space. She barely even sleeps in there anyway. I usually find her on the floor by one of the windows in the middle of the night," he added as the small piece of information hit my heart like a train. I had my theories as to why she did that, but I needed to hear it from her.

Not wanting to give Steve another reason to worry about me, I proceeded, a glimmer of excitement amongst the overwhelming fear, "no...I mean...what about _one more_?"

"Your father?" he asked, still not getting the hint. I felt like I'd have to all but shout it at him for him to realize what I was insinuating, but before I could hint at it again, he continued, a fond smile on his face at the thought of my father, "Aaldir was here for as long as he could before he had to go back to Asgard, but he and I got along really well, actually. Tony might have the most amount of space, but I can make a good argument as to why you should stay with me. My apartment might be a tight fit, especially with three Asgardians, two children, and myself, but the more the merrier. Your father is more than welcome to come along. I sleep on the couch most nights anyway." I laughed at his obliviousness and silently hoped that he would never change. The world was unkind to him all his life, but he maintained that boyish innocence through it all. "I'm glad to make any renovations you'd need, too. I'm handy with tools," he added, hoping it would sway me in the right direction. The man was willing to do absolutely anything for me.

I let out a long breath, one I didn't know I had been holding until my chest fell. The weight slipped from my shoulders the moment our eyes met, "what about a nursery?"

His eyes brightened with life, and he pulled away even more as those twinkling blue eyes flickered between me and my loosely covered abdomen. The purest smile plastered itself on his face, "wait...you...are you pregnant?" he asked, struggling to find the right words, unsure of how he should ask.

His pure joy at the mere idea that I was with child caused my heart to swell with love. Too emotional to speak, I simply nodded my head, biting my bottom lip to suppress the smile. The fear of the future bled away as Steve's excitement took hold of me. He threw his arms around my waist. The warmth of his life essence encircled mine and surrounded it with the love and care I was in desperate need of. No matter how much bloodshed I had caused or how much I had seen-no matter how many battlefields I stood upon-there were times when I needed someone to hold me and times when I needed to feel protected. As I buried my face into his shoulder, my grin became even wider, "all I know is that the situation in Asgard needs to be resolved before this child is born, and then I'll be free to commit treason and bring Loki here. Then, I can finally have my family the way I always dreamed of: _together_."

I felt the sudden change within him, which caused me to pull away just enough to see that the joyous smile was evicted from its home on his lips, and it was replaced by a tight frown. The idea of me riding into a war that could potentially claim my life was upsetting for him, and I knew because the tables turned between us, "if you need help, you always know that this...strange and _dysfunctional_ family is here for you. We would bleed for you, Eva. Never forget that."

The mere thought of them taking on Cul and Ezra caused a wave of fear to crash into me, nearly causing my knees to buckle. A chill rolled through me. I knew that they would fight and bleed for me, that they would _die_ for me, but I wouldn't let them. I refused to risk the lives of my people even if it was for the greater good, "Cul and Ezra are my problems, and-"

He cut me off, his voice strong and stern, "and you're ours! You came down to Earth during some of our greatest times of need, and you risked your life to protect us. We're willing to do the same for you. I'm willing to be thrown into space if it means I can help keep two-_three_-" he gestured down to my abdomen, "-of my favorite people safe and reunite my other favorite person with her family," he added, smiling at the mere mention of Aurora.

"You're so good, Steve Rogers-far too good for this world and all you've been through," I noted, resting my head back onto his shoulder as our swaying picked back up again.

"I could say the same about you," he smiled, his heart rate slowing back down as he pushed the idea of the future away from us, trying desperately to focus on the present. Every so often, his heart would speed up and skip a beat, and I wondered if it was because he caught himself thinking about the future and all the unknowns that came with it. After a few long moments of silence between us, he laughed, "I guess we're both a bit lucky that our dance took this long to come about. My clothes fit much better, and I'm a little less clumsy."

I smirked, gazing up into his eyes, "but you're still the same man you were all those years ago, and I wouldn't change that for the world."

"I haven't changed much, but I can finally manage myself around you, which is probably the biggest change aside from the fact that I'm taller than you now," he teased me, taking pride in the handful of inches that he stood above me.

"You seemed to do well back then," I noted as the fingers of my left hand began stroking the back of his neck. Occasionally, they would rake through his soft golden locks, but his hair wasn't long enough for my fingers to lose themselves-not the same way they did in Loki's wild raven hair. For a moment, I wondered what Steve would look like with the long hair that so many Asgardian men donned, and the thought of it made my cheeks flush with color.

Even though he couldn't possibly know what I was thinking, I watched as blood rushed to Steve's cheeks the same way it did to mine. He fought back a coy smile, trying to hide his blush, but I had already seen it. Knowing that I wouldn't call attention to it, he cleared his throat and proceeded with the conversation, "you clearly don't remember it the same way I do. I would've stepped on your toes over and over again because I would've been hopelessly lost with a woman like you in my arms. I'm still just as lost, but I can mind my feet a little better," he grinned, clearly not giving himself enough credit. The moment I opened my mouth to argue against his claim, he continued, his face becoming solemn, "I still have the biggest crush on you. I'm not afraid to say it. I'm still madly, hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you, and that will _never _change. I sit up most nights, and I tell myself that in another life-in another alternate reality-maybe there's a version of me who is living his happily ever after with you as his wife. He's the one who got the happy ending with a dog and a handful of kids with you. He had the courage to dance with you that night in 1943, and you fell just as hopelessly in love with him as he was with you. I tell myself that he's in his own reality, happier than ever because he can grow old beside the woman of his dreams, but this version of me...I'm happy because you're on your way to being happy, and that is _all_ that matters to me. I know I can't have you, but you're the love of my life, Eva, and that's just how the story goes."

Our swaying came to another abrupt halt as his words began to sink in. I wasn't taken aback by any of them, but what I was taken aback by was his willingness to tell me with so much confidence. He was still the shy man that he used to be, but he spoke his truth with conviction. As I turned his words over and over again in my mind, he took the opportunity to keep speaking, "I have something for you," he murmured, reaching into his pants pocket. He didn't give me much time to process what he said previously before he changed the subject, but I knew that I would have plenty of time to think about it later in the night. From his pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper. He gazed down at it, clearing away the lump in his throat before he spoke, "Bucky..." he stopped, the mere mention of his late friend bringing about a sadness that left me feeling the hole in my chest once more. The one I couldn't save. The soldier. Bucky. He pressed on, tears forming in his crystal blue eyes, "he left me two separate letters the day he was shipped out. One was for me, filled with some sentimental words and some words about you. The other...well, he asked that the other be given to you if I ever saw you again. He didn't care if it was a year down the line or even if it was after he...was _gone_. I think he knew in his heart that we would find each other again, so...I kept it on me ever since. It's time that I gave it to its rightful owner."

He held his hand out. The fragile, worn piece of paper looked like it had been through it all, which it had. Steve kept it on his person, and it showed. In Steve's hand rested the final words I would have from Bucky. They wouldn't be the ones filled with fear and sorrow that I heard when I held him in the snow. The words in the snow were fearful, but they quickly bled into ones of amazement and love. He kept claiming that he knew it would be me that he would see in his last moments, that he was right. I didn't want him to be right. I didn't want there to be a final moment for him. As I stared down at the letter, I was left in disbelief. He thought of me right before he left. He made sure to write a letter for his best friend and for a girl he only met once, a girl he danced with for a handful of songs, a girl he held for only a fraction of his life. He thought of me enough to write me a letter, almost like he knew that he didn't want to leave me with the words in the snow with blood all around us. I was unable to speak. I was rendered completely and utterly speechless as I stared down at the folded note. I couldn't even move it to take it from Steve's hand.

Sensing my inability to even move, Steve brushed past me and placed the note on my nightstand. I watched him, my eyes wide as I continued to process everything that was happening. All the while, I was also busy trying to shove my last memories of Bucky back into the box that made that loss more manageable, "I know you plan on leaving tomorrow," Steve blurted out, his back facing me as he positioned the note just so on the nightstand. When he turned to face me, I saw the fear of the unknown in his eyes, but I was just as fearful that someone else knew. How could he know? I didn't tell anyone or even write it down for anyone to find. Perhaps he could simply feel it, "I know that there's nothing I can do to stop you, but...you need to come back. I'm telling you that I _need_ you to come back because I'm not finished. I will _never_ be finished. There may be a few chapters of my life without you, but I won't settle for a story that ends without you still by my side as my best friend, the love of my life, and the woman who would've let me step on her toes. I can't kiss you the way I want to or love you the way I want to or _marry you_, so..._please_ don't make me live my life without you, too, Eva. I can't do that. Don't ask me to do that," he begged before a rapid knocking on the door pulled our attention.

Steve called out the invitation to enter the room as I still hadn't recovered from _any_ of what just happened, but he seemed to be doing fine. I suddenly took notice of everything. Every single one of my senses felt like it was on overdrive. I heard the light squeak of the doorknob as it turned and the way the air caught the door as it opened just enough for Natasha to poke her head into the room. I heard the way she shifted on her feet, and I smelled the sweetness of her delicate perfume from all the way across the room. I was hyper-aware of everything around me. Natasha smiled, adding light to the room that seemed to darken in my sadness. My heart-like Steve's-skipped a beat as I was brought back to the present, "when you two fossils are done with your love-fest in here, we have a movie night to tend to. The cookies are finally perfected, thanks to yours truly, so I'd better not be the only one eating them!"


	30. The Storm

The movie came to a close quicker than I anticipated. Aurora had been so invested in watching that one movie that not even Tony could deny her, no matter how badly I saw he wanted to. The movie was nothing spectacular, and if I was given the opportunity to watch it again, I wouldn't; however, Aurora seemed to be fond of it, so the movie held a special place in my heart. As I sat between Steve and Tony, I stole glances at her in the darkened room, her face illuminated by the light from the television, and I watched as she mouthed each line of dialogue as if it were her own. She was entranced by the movie, loving every moment of it. Tony offered once to swap places with me so that he wasn't between the two of us, but I couldn't take that risk. I couldn't be so close to her when all I had worked for was teetering on the edge. If I gave in and embraced the life I so desperately desired, it could crumble in my grasp. I had to be patient.

Once it was over, I retired to my room with only a few words to everyone. I didn't want to make it obvious that I was preparing to leave the following morning before they awoke. There was no sense in causing a scene, so I said my goodbyes as informally as possible. I hugged each of them and wished them goodnight, not knowing whether that would be the final time we spoke or saw each other. Either way, I wanted them to remember me as I was, not how I left them. Steve held me for longer than the others, knowing what this was. I knew that he fought himself not to follow me back to my room to stay the night by my side, but in the end, he released me and retired to his room with a grief-stricken heart that left mine a little heavier. The only one who had the nerve to follow me to my room was the very man I had no desire to speak to, the man who stabbed me with the knife I gave him.

Upon entering my room, I left the door open for Thor to enter behind me. The click of the latch caused me to wince, unsure of whether or not I would be having another argument with a man I knew as one of my very best friends. I took my normal spot standing before the glass wall with my arms crossed over my chest. The lamp on the bedside table offered the only light in the room, and I watched my reflection in the window as the rain pelted the glass, "you're still upset with me, and I can understand why," I noted, interrupting the deafening silence that surrounded us, "you're upset with me, but she can't sleep during a thunderstorm. I'm not asking for myself-I've slept through many a storm-but...for _her _sake, can you please stop this?" I asked, continuing to gaze out at the blackened sky.

"I'm not doing this," he replied, his voice barely cutting through the quiet air surrounding us.

I scoffed, "says the God of Thunder!"

"Yes! I'm saying that I haven't been doing this and that I've tried to stop it, but it keeps coming back," he insisted, taking his place beside me. Instead of staring out the window at the rain, though, I felt his gaze on my cheek, but I couldn't bring myself to look into his eyes. After what happened during our previous interaction, I felt small in his presence. I did the best I could with what I was given when it came to my daughter, but I couldn't help but feel guilty for all the ways I had hurt Thor with my decision to send Aurora away. He was there for me when Loki wasn't. He was there for me when Loki decided to leave me in the garden, forcing me to raise our daughter alone. Thor was by my side through it all, even when Loki failed to be. While I understood why Loki did what he did and how he was all but forced down the path he went down, Thor stayed by my side. I had no right to call him my friend after what I had done to him. He shared a connection to Aurora; she was his family, and I tore her away from him. I couldn't bring myself to look at him, but he continued to study me, "I'm saying that I have no control over this because there is another-one more powerful than I-whose link to this world is so deep, so profound, that the bat of her lashes sends hurricanes across the ocean, the drop of a tear causes a thunderstorm, and her laughter blows away the clouds to reveal the sun. I'm telling you that this isn't me."

My jaw clenched involuntarily as I processed his words. He couldn't be serious. I shook my head, not willing to believe in such claims, "you can't possibly be insinuating that this has _anything _to do with me."

"This has _everything_ to do with you," he argued as the heat of his gaze felt like it would burn a hole right through me, "when we thought you were dead, the universe wept for you. The skies opened up with a rain that-if you hadn't come back-wouldn't have stopped until it washed away every trace of humanity. When you awoke, the clouds in the sky cleared, and the sun began shining like it was meant to shine for you and only you. When you saw _her _for the first time in so long, the sun shone brighter than before, but it was quickly swallowed up by the rain once more. Lately, the sky has been covered in clouds, but when you spent the day with her and Natasha, the sun came back out. Tonight, you are struggling with a grief that I cannot understand, and _this_ is the evidence of it," he argued his point, gesturing out the window at the rain.

I watched the raindrops hit the window and cascade down the glass, doing what Tony often did as a child. He would choose two raindrops that were close to one another, and he would bet on which one would reach the bottom first. We would often play the game together as Howard and Maria argued in the other room, but I made sure that Tony's laughter and the sound of my voice drowned out the muffled hollering. It wasn't a game of calculations or numbers, but it was a game of luck. We just had to hope we chose the right one. I shook my head again, trying to drown out my own fear with the sound of the rain on the window, "this isn't me. This _can't_ be me," I insisted, my voice quivering as I thought that I could hold any power at all. The universe would've been better off if I had stayed dead because the power I couldn't shake would've been a threat no longer. I couldn't control it, and I didn't have anyone to teach me how to handle it. There was only one who promised to teach me, one who was burdened with the same power, but...I couldn't trust him. My heart told me to run to him, told me that he could be saved, but I didn't know if I was willing to sacrifice my everything for his anything. I didn't know if I could trust that Ezra _wouldn't_ try to turn me against myself.

Thor's voice ripped me from my own fearful thoughts, "you know who you are as well as I know who you are," he remarked, his words sending a shiver down my spine. I didn't want to talk about my parentage or the fact that I was an abomination. I didn't want to add fuel to the fire in my heart that told me I wasn't good enough for any of the good things in my life, for the man I loved, for the children I gave life to, for the friends I would give my life for, or for the blade of grass tied around my finger. There were so many voices that told me I was worthy of the love I received, but there was that _one_-the voice that hid in the darkest recesses of my mind-that told me I was worth nothing because of where I came from, and that voice was the loudest one. Instead of berating me, though, Thor continued with pride emanating from his chest and a smile on his lips, "there should be no question in your mind that you're capable of this-that you're far more powerful than I could ever even hope to be."

"_Don't say that!_" I hissed under my breath. The anger shot through me like a fire in my veins.

He furrowed his eyebrows, "why not?"

"Because what if I'm the one who needs to be stopped?!" I snapped, turning to face him as the rage manifested itself once more in a physical form. My eyes shone red in his, causing my heart to drop. I wished that it would stop. I wished that I could convince myself that I had no special gifts at all because what if my special gifts were terrifying ones? I brought my hands up to show him the proof of what I was becoming. Not even the persistent tears in my eyes could drown away the vivid, blood red hue in my eyes or the burning in my hands as my veins appeared to have the same blood red fire coursing through them. Just like he had before, Thor winced away from me when he saw this part of me. I had been able to control my anger all my life, but with every sudden change that had been happening, I lost control. I blinked away the tears or frustration, "what if the darkness swallows me whole, and I can't do anything about it? What if your father was right all those years ago when he wanted me to be locked away in the dungeons if I were to stay? What if he was right to be afraid of me? What if I'm the villain in this story?"

"Then you'll rewrite it!" his voice boomed, cutting off my questioning. He had more faith in me than I did; however, even _Odin_ had more faith in me than I did, which spoke volumes of my relationship with myself.

"What if I can't?" I asked, my voice softening as fear took the place of the anger. I was afraid of myself-of what my presence could do to the people I loved. Life was easier when I believed I was just a simple sorceress, but when I was brought back to the land of the living, I felt more powerful than ever before, which left me terrified because I lost all sense of control I thought I had. Closing the space between us, my eyes locked with Thor's, "I feel like I'm not the one holding the quill."

"Then you take it!" he huffed, his hands trembling as my fear left him feeling just as uncertain of the future. He looked to me for a sense of stability, and I couldn't be that foundation for him in that moment. His eyes scanned the room, almost as if he was searching for an answer hidden in a darkened corner, and when he turned his eyes back to me, I saw his renewed faith in me, "you take it and you do what I believe you can do-what I've _always_ believed you could do: you write the ending the way _you_ believe it was meant to be. You have the power to change the tide of this war with Cul, and you act like this new power has somehow changed you, but this power isn't new. This power has always been a part of you, laying dormant in the recesses of your heart until the time was right. _Now_ is the time to learn how to control it, and everyone will be there to help you, to guide you, and to support you. My father was wrong about you. He was wrong about everything I know to be true about both you and my brother. Loki's not an abomination, and _neither are you_. _You _are our last hope, Eva. You're Asgard's last hope at defeating Cul and his armies, and I understand that you've given more than enough of your life and blood to serving the throne; however, I'm not asking you to serve the throne...I'm asking you to serve your people once more...as the princess of Asgard," he insisted, his voice filled with determination and unwavering support.

I shook my head, his words leaving a bad taste in my mouth. Attempting to laugh it off, I nearly made myself sick. The sudden fluttering of butterflies wings in my abdomen was a harsh reminder of all the reasons why I should ignore my responsibilities to Asgard and to the ones I loved. For a fleeting moment, I entertained the idea of staying on Midgard with my children and ignoring the needs of my people, allowing them to be slaughtered. The mere thought caused a panic to race through me, so I shook it off, "don't call me that," I requested, the title not sounding quite right.

He smiled, seeing how uncomfortable it made me. He knew that it was a light request, so he would take the opportunity to tease me in the future about it, but the time for teasing and childish banter was tabled for the time being. The smile fell from his face as his eyes became filled with memories that I was not present for, memories I wished to decipher, but he asked once-many years ago-that his mind be off limits to me, "I never understood why Heimdall seemed to have a deeper loyalty to you than to my father, how he could bring himself to bend-even _break_-the rules for you. When I read your letter and discovered that you had come to Midgard, I demanded he send me here. I didn't know what I wanted to do, really, but I just wanted to be close to you. Heimdall always referred to you as a princess, but on that night, I told him that he must listen to my command because I was the prince of Asgard. He told me that you were the princess, and his loyalty began to make more and more sense. It wasn't until I discovered your parentage that I realized _why_ he called you that, why he served you, why his loyalty has never been to the throne as long as you were alive. His sword has always been at your feet, and it's not only because you're the princess of Asgard: it's because you are the light that leads the weary travellers home. You're the foundation that empires are built upon, and he believes in you as a leader, as a warrior, and as a ruler. Your father may have been usurped, but you still hold a claim to the throne-one that many people would be happy to see you sit upon."

"I want nothing more to do with that throne-I never have," I confessed. The burden of holding an entire kingdom in my hands was a daunting idea in and of itself, and those who could remember Cul's reign were sure to harbor animosity toward me once they discovered my true parentage. I was sure it wouldn't be kept secret for too long should a war reach us. I wasn't fit to rule, and I had to make Thor understand such things, "I wanted to marry Loki for love, not the throne or the royal titles that would come with it. I wanted to fight in Asgard's wars for light and life, not for the throne. I serve my people because I cherish every life I encounter, not because I desire the throne. After this war is finished, I wish to never even see that throne room again for the rest of my life," I snickered, remembering all the times I had been reprimanded for my wild behaviors in that throne room and all the times I spoke out against the Allfather. My youth was slowly lost in that throne room, and I couldn't bear to lose anything else, "besides, I'm not meant to be chained to a throne, and you know that. I'm like the wind: wild and ever-changing. I could never rule the way past kings have ruled."

He shrugged, "well, maybe it's time for a change. Perhaps Asgard needs a queen."

"It already has a queen: your mother," I reminded him, not wishing to speak of the matter anymore. It was an idea that was good for nothing but the imagination, for it would never come to fruition anyway. I smiled, brushing past him as I made my way over to the bed, "you should go get some sleep. Midgard has us both lost in our own dreams, and we could both use some rest."

"I have one last thing to say. It's the reason why I followed you into your quarters tonight," he interjected. He shifted his weight, wringing his hands together before our eyes connected. With a deep breath, he finally spoke, "I'm sorry," he blurted out, his voice like a low rumble. Before I could offer up my words of forgiveness and my own apologies, he continued, "you are the woman I've always been in love with, but even more than that...you're my best friend. The way I spoke to you-the words I said to you-are abhorrent, and they caused irreparable damage to the very fabric of our friendship. You have no reason to forgive me, for I should _never_ be forgiven. I used my words as ammunition against you because your decision to save your child's life was hurtful to me. I never considered the alternatives or the fear that lead you to your decision to bring her here. Instead, all I saw was how that decision impacted me and how it hurt her, but I never realized that it's very possible that she wouldn't be alive to hurt if you hadn't made the most difficult decision of your life. Instead of supporting you the way friends are supposed to, I was angry with you and treated you with contempt. I wasn't there for you when you needed me the most, and I judged your decision as an outsider to the situation. My heart has been heavy with guilt since our last discussion, so I came in here tonight to apologize and hope that you could find it in your heart to forgive me for what I have done."

"There's nothing to forgive. You spoke to me as your friend who was hurt, and I find myself grateful that you care so deeply about my well-being and the health and happiness of my daughter to fight for her. I saw you advocate for my child, and while it wasn't necessary, it gave me a sense of peace. Should I die, she will have you there to always advocate for her and keep her best interests in mind. She will be surrounded by people who will love her and protect her," I explained, offering up a smile, "I wish you would have asked me why I did what I did because my decision was born out of my unconditional love for her. Not a day goes by that she's not the very first thought I have in the morning and the very last thought I have before falling asleep. I love her more than I've ever loved another living thing. I look at her, and I see every happy memory I've ever had. She is sweet-natured like your brother, but she is wild like me. When this war with Cul is over and my presence will not present her with any harm, I will piece my family back together, and this pain will be a memory of my past. Once this is over, I will _finally_ be happy."

* * *

***Aurora's POV***

Every bolt of lightning struck more than just the surface of the world, it also struck fear in my heart. I didn't understand why a sound so natural would be one that scared me so much, but it left me trembling on the floor, staring out at the darkened sky. The rain fell hard enough that it drowned out the dwindling conversations around the apartment-like living quarters of the tower. Natasha and Clint were still throwing their usual banter back and forth, catching up as much as they could before Clint left the following day. He had opened up to me about the alternate life he lived aside from S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers. He spoke of his wife, Laura, and his children, Cooper and Lila. He discussed with Natasha how he and his wife were eager to have another baby, and Natasha would jokingly name the non-existent child after herself. Clint told her about his interest in building an addition onto his house, and she would recommend different colors if he was looking for a change. I was left entranced in most of their conversations, but it wasn't for the banter or the friendly smiles back and forth.

I lost myself in the idea of having my own little family with a mother and father and siblings. I lost myself in the idea of going outside with my father and having him chase me around a field until he finally caught me. I lost myself in the idea of helping my mother redecorate our home on a whim because she needs a change of scenery. I lost myself in the idea of bickering with my siblings, which would lead to us eventually making up with each other and causing mischief that would drive any normal parent to the brink of insanity; however, our parents would love us all the more for it. I lost myself in the idea of my father overhearing my mother talking about adding an addition to our home, and he would surprise her with the necessary supplies before they both worked on renovations together, laughing and falling even more in love with every passing moment. I lost myself in the idea of a family that I could call my own. The team was my family, but I still dreamed of the one I must've had at one point when I was too young to remember.

There was another crack of thunder that startled me out of my silent dreaming. I flinched at the sound, and I knew that it was time to make the usual trek into one of five rooms. I could sleep with Natasha, but I knew that when I woke up, she would be holding me so tightly that I wouldn't be able to move until she awoke. I could sleep with Bruce, but he was the lightest sleeper I knew; therefore, my nightmares that left me struggling to breathe would only frighten him just as much. I could sleep with Clint, knowing that he could offer me the most father-like care, but he had to leave in the morning; I didn't want to be a bother. I could sleep with Steve, but he didn't sleep when I was with him. Instead, he resorted to staying awake to watch over me whilst he read or lost himself deep in thought. Tony was the only other option, since Thor and Eva were both made "off limits" to me, and Tony may have needed me just as much as I needed him.

Before I could push myself off the floor, I caught the reflection of my own eyes in the glass. Eva's eyes were the same color, but when I saw hers for the first time, I felt whole. Strangers we encountered while we were out with Natasha often did a double-take at Eva and I before noting that we looked like we were somehow related. I tried to laugh it off the way Natasha did, but I couldn't help but wish that there was truth to it. While Eva was distant with me, there was something about her that my very essence was connected to. I loved her without knowing a single thing about her. I knew that she had a love of literature and that she was an Asgardian, but my knowledge was far too limited to claim love for her; however, love was present each time I even thought of her. No matter how many times she tried to push me away, I was pulled back to her by my own heart.

Another crack of thunder had me scrambling up off the floor. I slipped out of my bedroom, closing the door behind me and making sure to turn the handle to keep from the signature clicking sound of the latch that would give me away. I made my way to Tony's room, my feet padding along the cold floor. My pace quickened with each crack of thunder until I reached Tony's bedroom. I hoped that he would be in there and not in his workshop again. He had spent night after night in the workshop, refusing to sleep until he found a cure for the Extremis serum. Bruce helped him most of the time, but Tony worked non-stop. It was his way of coping. He told me that at one point, coping came in the form of drinking, but he claimed that he had made a promise to my mother that he would stop. He struggled to keep that promise when they brought Eva to the tower, though. When I visited him in his workshop, he would sit with a glass of his favorite whiskey right next to him, eyeing it every now and then. He claimed that the bottle hadn't been opened since shortly before he made the promise to my mother.

I knocked on his bedroom door and breathed a sigh of relief when he called out for me to come in. I opened the door just wide enough to slip into the room and see him scribbling notes into one of the various journals he kept. It was no secret that he was still working on figuring out the Extremis and how it affected Eva. He wanted to have a solution before she left, which he feared would happen any day. Each time he looked at her, his expression was mixed between fear, endearment, and immeasurable guilt. He hadn't spoken much to her since she woke up, but he sat with her day in and day out while she was still unconscious. I found him countless times passed out, leaning against the wall outside of her bedroom. Each and every time-after helping him back to his room-I found my way back to her room. Too afraid to open the door-I sat in the spot that was still warm from when Tony occupied it, and I fell asleep with dreams of a faceless woman with an all-too-familiar voice. Tony slept outside her room because he blamed himself for what happened. If anything could _possibly_ be Tony's fault, he felt guilty for it. I didn't know why I slept outside her room.

He cast his eyes over to me without a word before turning his attention back to the words he was scribbling into his journal. I was silent as I entered the room and proceeded to crawl into the bed next to him, making myself as small as possible under the blankets. I curled my body as close to his as I could get, feeling safe around the people who swore their lives to me for some ungodly reason. As soon as I found a suitable and comfortable position, he closed the journal and pulled off his glasses, setting them both on the bedside table. He let out a long yawn and adjusted himself so that he could lay on his back, "can't sleep?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow as he cast a fleeting glance over at me before turning it back to the ceiling. Another crack of thunder caused us both to flinch. I shook my head as my response, clutching the blankets around me and pulling them tighter. Sensing my fear, he did what he always did. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled my body flush against his, surrounding me in his warmth. I felt safe with Tony, but I also felt so much fear. I knew that should my life be on the line, he would sacrifice his to save mine, and I wasn't worth such a tremendous sacrifice. I feared the depth of his love for me because it could only hurt him. Once he relaxed his muscles, he let out a long breath, "yeah, me neither," he replied, rubbing circles onto my back.

I rested my head against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat, allowing it to lull my heart back into a steady rhythm. Tony and I-much like the rest of the team and I-were connected in a way that was unexplainable. The connection was the same one I felt with Eva, even though few words had been exchanged between the two of us. The connection made it impossible to imagine a life without them, and when I thought of the prospect of not seeing one of them for even a single day, it tore me apart. I hated being away from Tony when he sent me to live with Steve, and I hated being away from Steve when I lived with Tony. It was a connection that breathed life into my heart, but it also caused such extreme misery. I loved without limits, almost as if my very soul was the same as the soul within each of the people I loved so dearly. I felt that connection _especially_ with Eva. The idea of her departure caused even more panic in me, so I turned my focus back to Tony, "tell me a story," I pleaded, thinking that maybe this time would be different. Rest never came to me during thunderstorms; however, it didn't stop me from trying. This would've been a first if it happened.

"You really know how to put me on the spot, don't you?" Tony chuckled, resting his right hand on his abdomen, his thumb gently brushing my forearm that was draped across his waist in an attempt to pull myself as close to him as possible. I didn't trust many people, but I trusted Tony. With his left hand, he stroked my temple, brushing my hair back like he did whenever I was feeling sad. I listened as his breath hitched and his heart skipped a beat, but when I turned my gaze up to his face, he didn't show the signs of fear that I anticipated. Instead, he wore such an endearing smile, as if he were reliving memories that had been living on the surface more so recently than ever before, "once upon a time, there was a princess, the most beautiful, delicate woman to grace the face of this world. She was gentle like people expected her to be as a princess, but she was fierce with a tongue sharper than any sword she ever wielded."

"She watched over the world, and she hung the moon and the stars in the night sky to guide home every weary traveller, and she captured each of their hearts even though she promised herself to another. Her beloved, the prince of the land, was a gentle soul, and it was fitting that they end up together. They were two sides of the same coin, but they also couldn't have been more different in some aspects. Fate pulled them apart time and time again, but the princess never lost hope even when her prince did. The prince was...different," he searched for the right word and landed on that one, which he clearly didn't think fit the description of the character, "the prince was kind and shy, but many people cast him aside. He wasn't a warrior like other princes had been before him. Instead, he preferred books and nature. He was soft-spoken and gentlemanly. He helped the princess hang the moon and stars in the night sky because he cared about the weary travellers just as much as she did, but the people didn't see his kindness and gentleness as strengths like they did in her. This drove him to build up walls around his heart, and he thought that he had to prove himself in order to earn her love. Little did he know, he would have her love no matter what."

"The prince became a man the princess didn't know, and she took to the cliffs, ready to throw herself off. The water crashed against the rocks and drowned out her own tears. Right before she leapt from the cliff, she heard the desperate pleas of a man out at sea. You see, there was a lowly craftsman-a man who didn't belong out on the sea-who set out to fish in order to satiate his own hunger, and he was lost in an unforgiving storm. His boat wouldn't last through the night, and he was afraid of dying. The sky was so thick with clouds that looked to be made of soot, making it impossible for him to even see with the help of the moon and stars that the princess had hung for people like him," he choked out, that part of the story hitting a soft spot for him. I knew that the story was far more than just a work of fiction. It was a story about my parents, and he was the craftsman. I figured it out the moment he mentioned that the princess hung the stars in the night sky. Those were the only words I could remember my mother saying to me. I could remember nothing else.

Tony continued, his voice thick with emotion, "the craftsman was ready to give up just like she was, even though he was terrified of what would happen if he did. He was just so tired of fighting the storm, so he was ready to succumb to it. Then, he heard a distant voice. It was a song. The princess-even in her moment of grief and sorrow-pushed aside her emotions to guide him home. He followed the sound of her angelic voice, rowing himself toward the shore. When he reached the shore, he fell into the sand at her feet. She had descended from the cliff to stand on the shore to greet him when he finally returned. Tears blurred his vision when he looked up to take in the face of his savior, and his heart nearly stopped. He hadn't expected the princess. He _never _expected that a princess would ever concern herself with a peasant like himself, but she _did_. She was far more beautiful than people described her, more stunning than he could even fathom himself. The moment he saw her, he fell madly in love with her. She was his saving grace, but what he didn't know was that she had found another purpose, and it was to continue to save all those she could even while her heart was aching."

"The princess and the craftsman became closer and closer as time passed, and they helped each other. Each day, he fell deeper and deeper in love with her, but he knew in his heart that it wasn't meant to be between the two of them. He knew that her heart and soul were still promised to the prince, and he was happy if they could find happiness together. Her love saved her prince, and they found happiness together once more. The prince was saved from himself, and no matter how badly the craftsman wished she would end up in his arms, he knew that the princess was always meant to be with the prince. Instead, the craftsman promised his craft to her, and from that moment on, she lived within his heart. Everything he crafted was tinged with the color of her eyes, even if it was as small as an emerald on the hilt of a sword. He incorporated a piece of her into everything he did, and as he got to know the prince-a man he grew to consider a friend-he found a way to include the sky blue hue of his eyes into his work as well. In his work, the prince and princess would live forever, and he found a way to keep them close even when they seemed to be worlds away," he finished, forcing a smile onto his face as he spoke. There was a sorrow in him when he told the story, a sort of homesickness that came whenever I asked about my parents.

"Is there something wrong with me?" I asked, biting my bottom lip to keep it from quivering as the emotion washed over me. It felt as if I was in a state of constant confusion. What had I done that was so wrong that they left me? If they were these beautiful, amazing, miraculous people who strived to help everyone, what was so wrong with me? Sensing Tony's confusion, I continued, trying to explain my question a bit more, "you tell me all about how they loved the world, how they were the type of people who would take a bullet for a complete stranger because they had so much love in their hearts, so why couldn't they love me like that?"

Tony pulled away from me to prop himself up onto his elbow and stare down at me. His eyes had never been so serious in all the time I'd known him, "I _never_ want you to think that you weren't loved by them-that you aren't _still_ loved. Your mother made the most difficult decision of her life when she decided to give you to me. She told me every little thing about you, every little idiosyncrasy that united to make you the girl she loved so fiercely. I _never_ want to hear you even insinuate that you weren't loved because your mother loved you more than she ever loved another living thing. She loved you more than she loved herself. She loved you until it hurt," he explained before resting back onto the bed next to me, allowing me to pull our bodies close together once more. It was the most difficult concept to wrap my head around-how two people could love me so deeply but send me away. I didn't understand it. Before my thoughts could run their course, Tony's voice sounded again as he stared up at the ceiling, "your mother and father were meant to have children, but fate hurled hardship after hardship their way. Fate was _cruel _to your parents, and in order to protect you, a difficult choice had to be made. Never think...not even for a moment, that the decision to leave you with me was made lightly or that it wasn't made with your best interests in mind. You are with me because your mother made a choice that hurt her so deeply, but that choice was born of nothing but pure, unadulterated love. Fate had other plans for your mother and father, plans that they were undeserving of. Fate was cruel to you, too. I remember how your mother cried when she brought you to me, how she wept as she spoke her final words to you. I watched her heart shatter that day as I held her in my arms, and I wished with all I had that I could just fix it. That's what I do: I fix things. I just couldn't fix what she needed me to."

His words caused a jolt of sadness to surge through me like a bolt of lightning. I wished to hear her recollection of it. I wanted to hear the gentle quiver in her voice as she told me of the most difficult day of her life. I wanted to hear it because I wanted to comfort her. My dreams were simple, and that was one of them. I cleared my throat, "she's the princess in the story, and you're the craftsman. You loved her," I remarked, feeling an immediate pang of guilt for putting him on the spot, but it disappeared when his breath hitched and his heart skipped a beat. I smiled at the thought of them together. Tony would've made such a good father, and he was the closest thing I ever had to one. I felt a sense of wholeness when I imagined a little family with him and my mother, but something still didn't feel right about it. My voice cut through the silence once more, "I only remember _one _thing about my mother. I don't remember her face, her name, or even the sound of her voice. All I can remember are the words she said to me. She told me that she hung the moon and stars in the sky so that they would watch over me throughout the night, and if I were to ever feel lonely, all I needed to do was look up into the sky, and I would find her here amongst them. I can...I can remember that. She was the princess in your story, and you..._loved her_."

He nodded his head, and I lifted my head just enough to see a stray tear fall from the corner of his eye, slide past his temple and make a home somewhere in his dark hair, "if I could choose one woman to marry, if I could be totally selfish, I would choose her. A fair few of us who met your mother have fallen in love with her. She was this ethereal being who you couldn't help but become entranced by. She could lure you in with her physical beauty-a gentleness and a wildness unlike any I'd ever seen before. Then, once you heard her laugh, once you saw that smile, once you felt the warmth of her heart, it was over," he wore a fond smile, "I loved them both in different ways. It's hard to admit this, but your father deserved her far more than I ever did. He deserved nothing but happiness and joy, and she brought that to him. They were meant to find each other in every reality and every lifetime, and all I ever wanted was to see them happy."

I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, but with each crack of thunder and flicker of lightning outside, I was startled back awake over and over again. Just when I was on the brink of falling asleep, I was pulled back into full consciousness. The desperate attempts to drown out the sound of the storm were in vain. Tony's steady heartbeat could only offer me so much solace, and his quiet breathing wasn't nearly loud enough for me to use as a way to ignore the sky that opened up with such agony. Before I knew what I was doing, I was padding down the hallways, pacing back and forth between the living area and the library. I could stay up all night and watch movies, or I could lose myself in a few books in the library. I couldn't make up my mind, and in my pacing, my feet decided on a new direction, and I was involuntarily pulled toward Eva's bedroom. She didn't want to see me, and I didn't expect her to want to comfort me. I couldn't help but wonder, though..._what if_?

The princess was my mother, and Tony said that her eyes were green. _My_ eyes were green, and _Eva's_ eyes were green. People mistook us for being related when we were out shopping with Nat. Tony seemed to have strong feelings for Eva, which were only heightened after all the tragedies that unfolded recently. He slept by her side and worked tirelessly on a cure for the Extremis serum. Tony was also vocal about his love for my mother. Perhaps it was my exhaustion or my desperation for a mother-figure to bond with, but I secretly wished that the woman on the other side of the door was my mother. Eva built up walls, but I saw little bits and pieces of the woman within those walls, and she was the person I was looking for. I didn't know what my past looked like, but I knew that I wanted her to be a part of my future.

With another crack of thunder, I wrapped my hand around the doorknob, knowing somewhere deep in my soul that Eva was the only one who could chase away the storm.


End file.
